IN  THOSE  DAYS 


IN  THOSE  DAYS 

THE  STORY  OF  AN  OLD  MAN 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  HEBREW  BY 

GEORGE  JESHURUN 


PHILADELPHIA 

THE  JEWISH  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,  1915, 

BY 

THE  JEWISH  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY  OF  AMERICA 


IN  THOSE  DAYS 

THE  STORY  OF  AN  OLD  MAN 
I 

When  the  time  drew  near  for  Samuel  the 
Beadle  to  let  his  son  begin  his  term  of  military 
service,  he  betook  himself  to  the  market,  pur- 
chased a  regulation  shirt,  a  knapsack,  and  a 
few  other  things  needed  by  a  soldier — and  he 
did  not  forget  the  main  item :  he  ran  and 
fetched  a  bottle  of  liquor.  Then  he  went  home. 

And  there,  in  the  presence  of  his  neighbors, 
of  whom  I  had  the  privilege  of  being  one,  he 
drank  a  glassful  to  "  long  life,"  and  offered 
another  to  Rebekah,  his  good  wife. 

"  Drink,  madam,"  said  he,  merrily.  At  this 
Rebekah  turned  up  her  nose,  as  if  ready  to 
blurt  out  with,  "  How  often  have  you  seen  me 
drink  liquor?  " 

5 


6  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Indeed,  it  was  an  affront  which  she  would  not 
have  passed  over  in  silence  at  any  other  time, 
but  she  had  no  heart  for  an  open  quarrel  just 
then,  when  about  to  part  with  her  son,  and 
was  satisfied  with  a  silent  refusal. 

"  Woman,"  said  Samuel,  angrily,  "  take  it, 
and  do  as  you  are  told !  "  But  Rebekah  was 
not  impressed  by  his  angry  tone,  for  in  fact 
Samuel  was  an  easy  "  lord  and  master."  As 
to  his  loudness,  it  was  but  part  of  an  old  habit 
of  his,  dating  from  the  days  of  his  own  military 
service,  to  bully  his  inferiors  and  to  let  those 
above  him  in  authority  bully  him. 

"  So  are  they  all  of  his  kind,"  she  would 
often  explain  to  her  neighbors.  "  They  just 
fuss,  to  blow  off 'their  tempers,  and  then — one 
may  sit  on  them." 

Rebekah  persisted  in  her  refusal,  and  Samuel 
began  in  a  softer  tone : 

"But  why  does  it  worry  you   so   much? 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  7 

Woman,  woman,  it  is  not  to  Shemad,  God 
forbid,  that  he  is  going!  " 

At  the  mention  of  conversion,  Rebekah  burst 
into  tears,  for  Samuel  had  unintentionally 
touched  her  sore  spot:  there  were  rumors  in 
the  town  that  her  family  was  not  without 
blemish. 

"  Now  that  you  are  crying,"  exclaimed 
Samuel,  thoroughly  angry,  "  you  are  not  only 
hard-headed,  but  also  silly,  simply  silly !  *  Long 
of  hair  but  short  of  sense.'  To  cry  and  cry, 
and  not  know  wherefore !  "  With  this  Samuel 
turned  towards  us,  and  began  to  plead  his  case. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  such  a  cry-baby?  Five 
times  in  her  life  she  filled  the  world  with  a  hue 
and  cry,  when  she  bore  me  a  child,  and  every 
time  it  was  but  an  empty  bubble :  five  girls  she 
brought  me!  Then,  beginning  with  the  sixth 
birth,  she  was  fortunate  enough  to  get  boys, 
the  real  thing.  Three  sons  she  gave  me  as  my 


8  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

old  age  was  approaching.  And  now,  when  she 
ought  to  thank  Heaven  for  having  been  found 
worthy  of  raising  a  soldier  for  the  army,  she 
cries !  Think  of  it — your  son  enters  the  army  a 
free  man;  but  I,  in  my  time, — well,  well,  I 
was  taken  by  force  when  a  mere  youngster!  " 

Here  the  old  man  settled  his  account  with 
the  bottle,  and  took  leave  of  his  crying  wife  and 
his  good  neighbors,  and  in  the  company  of  his 
son  mounted  the  coach  waiting  outside,  ready 
to  go  to  H.,  the  capital  of  the  district,  where  the 
recruits  had  to  report. 

By  special  good  fortune  I  was  going  to  H. 
by  the  same  coach,  and  so  I  came  to  hear  the 
story  of  old  Samuel's  life  from  the  beginning 
till  that  day. 

It  was  the  rainy  season;  the  roads  were 
muddy,  and  the  horses  moved  with  difficulty. 
The  driver  made  frequent  stops,  and  whenever 
the  road  showed  the  slightest  inclination  to  go 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  9 

uphill  he  would  intimate  that  it  might  be  well 
for  us  to  dismount  and  walk  behind  the  coach 
a  little. 

The  cold  drizzle  penetrated  to  our  very  skin 
and  made  our  flesh  creep.  The  warmth  we  had 
brought  with  us  from  the  house  was  evaporat- 
ing, and  with  it  went  the  merry  humor  of  the 
old  man.  He  began  to  contemplate  his  son, 
who  sat  opposite  to  him,  looking  him  over  up 
and  down. 

The  wise  "  lord  and  master,"  who  had  tried 
to  instruct  his  wife  at  home  and  celebrate  the 
fact  of  her  having  reared  a  soldier  for  the 
army,  he  failed  himself  to  stand  the  trial:  he 
began  to  feel  the  pangs  of  longing  and  lone- 
someness.  The  imminent  parting  with  his  son, 
to  take  place  on  the  morrow,  seemed  to  depress 
him  greatly. 

Bent  and  silent  he  sat,  and  one  could  see  that 
he  was  lost  in  a  maze  of  thoughts  and  emotions, 


io  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

which  came  crowding  in  upon  him  in  spite  of 
himself. 

I  took  a  seat  opposite  to  him,  so  that  I  might 
enter  into  conversation  with  him. 

"  Do  you  remember  all  that  happened  to 
you  in  those  days?  "  I  asked  by  way  of  start- 
ing the  conversation. 

He  seemed  to  welcome  my  question.  In 
that  hour  of  trial  the  old  man  was  eager  to 
unload  his  bosom,  to  share  his  thoughts  with 
some  one,  and  return  mentally  to  all  the  land- 
marks of  his  own  life,  till  he  reached  the  period 
corresponding  to  that  into  which  he  was  intro- 
ducing his  son.  The  old  man  took  out  his  well- 
beloved  short  pipe.  According  to  his  story  it 
had  been  a  present  from  his  superior  officer, 
and  it  had  served  him  ever  since.  He  filled 
the  pipe,  struck  a  match,  and  was  enveloped  in 
smoke. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  n 

II 

You  ask  me  whether  I  remember  everything 
— he  began  from  behind  the  smoke.  Why,  I 
see  it  all  as  if  it  had  happened  yesterday.  I  do 
not  know  exactly  how  old  I  was  then.  I  remem- 
ber only  that  my  brother  Solomon  became  a 
Bar-Mitzwah  at  that  time.  Then  there  was 
Dovidl,  another  brother,  younger  than  Solo- 
mon, but  older  than  myself;  but  he  had  died 
before  that  time.  I  must  have  been  about 
eleven  years  old. 

Just  then  the  mothers  fell  a-worrying:  a 
Catcher  was  coming  to  town.  According  to 
some  he  had  already  arrived. 

At  the  Heder  the  boys  were  telling  one 
another  that  the  Catcher  was  a  monster,  who 
caught  boys,  made  soldiers  out  of  them,  and 
turned  them  over  to  the  Government,  in  place 
of  the  Jewish  grown-ups  that  were  unwilling 
and  unable  to  serve.  And  the  boys  were  divided 


12  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

in  their  opinions:  some  said  that  the  Catcher 
was  a  demon,  one  of  those  who  had  been 
created  at  twilight  on  the  eve  of  the  Sabbath. 
Others  said  that  he  was  simply  a  "  heathen," 
and  some  others,  that  he  was  an  "  apostate." 
Then,  there  were  some  who  asserted  that  he 
was  merely  a  bad  Jew,  though  a  learned  one 
nevertheless ; — that  he  wore  the  regular  Jewish 
costume,  the  long  coat  and  the  broad  waistband, 
and  had  the  Tallis-Koton  on  his  breast,  so  that 
the  curse  of  the  righteous  could  not  hurt  him. 
According  to  rumor,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  dis- 
tributing nuts  and  candy  among  Jewish  boys; 
and  if  any  one  tasted  of  them,  he  could  not 
move  from  the  spot,  until  the  Catcher  put  his 
hand  on  him  and  "  caught  "  him.  I  happened 
to  overhear  a  conversation  between  father  and 
mother,  and  I  gathered  from  it  that  I  need  not 
fear  the  Catcher. 

It  was  a  Saturday  night,  soon  after  the  death 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  13 

of  my  elder  brother  Dovidl,  within  the  period 
of  the  thirty  days'  mourning  for  him.  Mother 
would  not  be  consoled,  for  Dovidl  had  been 
her  "  very  best." 

Three  brothers  had  I.  The  first-born,  Sim- 
hah,  may  he  rest  in  peace,  had  been  married 
long  before ;  he  was  the  junior  Shohet  in  town, 
and  a  candidate  for  the  Rabbinate.  Solomon 
was  more  learned  in  the  Torah,  young  though  he 
was,  peace  be  unto  him.  .  .  .  Well,  they  are 
now  in  the  world-of -truth,  in  the  world-to-come, 
both  of  them.  But  Dovidl,  had  he  lived,  would 
have  excelled  them  both.  That  is  the  way  of 
the  Angel  of  Death,  he  chooses  the  very  best. 
As  to  myself — why  deny  it? — I  was  a  dullard. 
Somehow  my  soul  was  not  attuned  to  the  Torah. 

As  I  said,  mother  was  uttering  complaints 
against  Heaven,  always  crying.  Yes,  in  the 
matter  of  tears  they  are  experts.  I  have 
pondered  over  it,  and  have  found  it  out:  fish 


i4  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

were  created  out  of  the  mud-puddle,  and  woman 
out  of  tears.  Father  used  to  scold  her  mightily, 
but  she  did  not  mind  it;  and  she  never  ceased 
bemoaning  Dovidl  and  crying  unto  Heaven, 
"  who  gave  the  Angel  of  Death  power  over 
him." 

On  that  night  after  the  Sabbath,  when  father 
had  extinguished  the  taper  in  the  dregs  of  the 
Havdolah  cup,  he  turned  to  mother,  and  said: 
"  Now  man  born  of  woman  is  unwise  all  his 
life  long.  He  knows  not  how  to  thank  for  the 
sorrows  that  have  been  sweetened  by  His 
mercy,  blessed  be  He !  " 

Mother  did  not  understand,  and  looked  at 
father  questioningly.  "  The  Catcher  is  in 
town,"  explained  father. 

"  The  Catcher !  "   shuddered  mother. 

"  But  he  takes  only  Fourths  and  upwards," 
said  father,  reassuringly. 

Fourths,  Fifths,  etc.,  those  households  were 
called  which  had  four,  or  five,  or  more  sons. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  15 

"  And  our  household  has  only  three  sons  at 
present,"  continued  father.  "  Do  you  under- 
stand, woman?  Three  sons  were  left  to  us,  and 
our  household  is  exempt  from  military  duty. 
Now  do  you  see  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  blessed 
be  He?  Do  you  still  murmur  against  Him, 
blessed  be  He?"— 

So  it  was  in  those  days.  Every  Jewish 
community  had  to  deliver  a  certain  fixed  num- 
ber of  recruits  to  the  Government  annually. 
This  number  was  apportioned  among  the  fam- 
ilies, and  every  family  taxed  the  households 
composing  it.  But  not  every  household  had 
to  supply  a  recruit.  A  household  with  a  large 
number  of  sons  secured  the  exemption  of  a 
household  with  fewer  sons.  For  instance,  a 
household  with  four  sons  in  it  was  exempted, 
if  there  was  a  household  with  five  sons  to  levy 
from  in  the  same  family.  And  a  household 
of  three  sons  was  spared  when  there  was,  in  the 


1 6  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

same  family,  a  household  of  four  sons.    And  so 
forth. — 

And  as  father  was  speaking — the  old  man 
continued — mother  contemplated  us,  as  one 
that  escapes  from  a  fire  contemplates  the  saved 
remnants ;  and  her  eyes  overflowed  with  silent 
tears.  Those  were  the  last  tears  shed  over  the 
grave  of  Dovidl,  and  for  those  tears  father  had 
no  rebuke.  We  felt  that  Dovidl  was  a  saint: 
he  had  departed  this  life  to  save  us  from  the 
hand  of  the  Catcher.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the 
soul  of  Dovidl  was  flitting  about  the  room, 
listening  to  everything,  and  noticing  that  we 
were  pleased  that  he  had  died;  and  I  felt 
ashamed. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  the  Heder,  some- 
what proud  of  myself.  I  boasted  before 
my  mates  that  I  was  a  Third.  The  Fourths 
envied  me ;  the  Fifths  envied  the  Fourths,  and 
all  of  us  envied  the  Seconds  and  the  only  sons. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  17 

So  little  chaps,  youngsters  who  knew  not  what 
their  life  was  going  to  be,  came  to  know  early 
that  brothers,  sons  of  one  father,  may  at  times 
be  a  source  of  trouble  to  one  another. 

That  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  summer. 

The  teachers  decided  that  we  remain  within 
the  walls  of  the  Heder  most  of  the  time,  and 
show  ourselves  outside  as  little  as  possible  dur- 
ing the  period  of  danger.  But  a  decree  like  that 
was  more  than  boys  could  stand,  especially  in 
those  beautiful  summer  days. 

Meanwhile  the  Catcher  came  to  town,  and 
set  his  eye  on  the  son-in-law  of  the  rich  Reb 
Yossel,  peace  be  unto  him.  The  name  of  the 
young  man  was  Avremel  Hourvitz — a  fine, 
genteel  young  man.  He  had  run  away  from 
his  home  in  Poland  and  come  to  our  town,  and 
was  spending  his  time  at  the  Klaus  studying  the 
Torah.  And  Reb  Yossel,  may  he  rest  in  peace, 
had  to  spend  a  pile  of  money  before  he  got 


1 8  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Avremel  for  his  daughter.  From  the  same 
Polish  town  came  the  Catcher,  to  take  Avremel 
as  the  recruit  of  the  family  Hourvitz  due  to  the 
Jewish  community  of  his  city.  When  he  laid 
his  hand  on  Avremel,  the  town  was  shocked. 
The  rabbi  himself  sent  for  the  Catcher,  and 
promised  to  let  him  have,  without  any  conten- 
tion, some  one  else  instead  of  Avremel.  Then 
they  began  to  look  for  a  household  with  the 
family  name  of  Hourvitz,  and  they  found  my 
father's.  Before  that  happened  I  had  never  sus- 
pected that  my  father  had  anything  like  a 
family  name.  For  some  time  the  deal  remained 
a  deep  secret.  But  no  secret  is  proof  against 
a  mother's  intuition,  and  mother  scented  the 
thing.  She  caught  me  by  the  arm — I  do  not 
know  why  she  picked  me  out — rushed  with  me 
to  the  rabbi,  and  made  it  hot  for  him. 
.  "  Is  this  justice,  rabbi?  Did  I  bear  and  rear 
children,  only  to  give  up  my  son  for  the  sake  of 
some  Avremel  ?  1  " 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  19 

The  rabbi  sighed,  cast  down  his  eyes,  and 
argued,  that  said  Avremel  was  not  simply  "  an 
Avremel,"  but  a  "  veritable  jewel,"  a  profound 
Lamdan,  a  noble-hearted  man,  destined  to 
become  great  in  Israel.  It  was  unjust  to  give 
him  away,  when  there  was  someone  else  to  take 
his  place.  Besides,  Avremel  was  a  married 
man,  and  the  father  of  an  infant  child.  "  Now 
where  is  justice  ?  "  demanded  the  rabbi.  But 
mother  persisted.  For  all  she  knew,  her  own 
sons  might  yet  grow  up  to  become  ornaments  to 
Israel  .  .  .  And  she,  too,  was  observing  the 
ordinances  of  the  Hallah  and  the  Sabbath 
candles,  and  the  rest  of  the  laws,  no  less  than 
Avremel's  mother. 

More  arguments,  more  tears  without  argu- 
ments— till  the  rabbi  softened:  he  could  not 
resist  a  woman.  Then  mother  took  me  and 
Solomon  up  to  the  garret,  and  ordered  us  not 
to  venture  outside. — 


20  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Here  the  old  man  interrupted  himself  by  a 
soft  sigh,  and  continued : — 

To  a  great  extent  it  was  my  own  fault,  wild 
boy  that  I  was.  I  broke  my  mother's  injunc- 
tion. In  the  alley,  near  the  house  of  my  parents, 
there  lived  a  wine-dealer,  Bendet  by  name. 
Good  wine  was  to  be  found  in  his  cellar.  For 
this  reason  army  officers  and  other  persons  of 
rank  frequented  his  place,  and  he  was  some- 
what of  a  favorite  with  them.  In  short,  though 
he  lived  in  a  mean  little  alley,  those  important 
personages  were  not  averse  to  calling  at  his 
house.  That  Bendet  had  an  only  child,  a 
daughter.  She  was  considered  beautiful  and 
educated.  I  had  not  known  her.  In  my  day 
they  spoke  ill  of  her.  Naturally,  her  father 
loved  her.  Is  there  a  father  who  loves  not  his 
offspring?  And  how  much  more  such  a 
daughter,  whom  everyone  loved.  However 
that  may  be,  one  day  Bendet's  daughter  broke 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  21 

away,  left  her  father's  house,  and  renounced 
her  faith — may  we  be  spared  such  a  fate !  And 
many  years  after  her  father's  death  she  re- 
turned to  our  town,  to  take  possession  of  her 
portion  of  the  inheritance.  That  happened  at 
the  time  when  we  were  hiding  in  the  garret. 
The  town  was  all  agog :  people  ran  from  every 
street  to  get  a  look  at  the  renegade,  who  came 
to  take  possession  of  a  Jewish  inheritance.  I, 
too,  was  seized  with  a  wild  desire  to  get  a  look 
at  her,  to  curse  her,  to  spit  in  her  face  .... 
And  I  forgot  all  the  dangers  that  surrounded 
me. 

Young  as  I  was,  I  considered  myself  as  a 
Jew  responsible  for  the  wayward  one.  I  lost 
control  of  myself,  and  ran  out.  But  after  I  had 
been  in  the  street  for  some  time,  I  was  seized 
with  fear  of  the  Catcher.  Every  stranger  I 
met  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  Catcher.  I  shrank 
into  myself,  walked  unsteadily  hither  and 


22  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

thither,  and  did  not  know  how  to  hide  myself. 
Then  a  man  met  me.  His  large  beard  and 
curled  side-locks  made  me  think  he  was  a  good 
man.  I  looked  at  him  imploringly.  "  What 
ails  you,  my  boy?  "  he  asked  in  a  soft  tone.  "  I 
am  afraid  of  the  Catcher,"  said  I,  tearfully. 

"  Whose  son  are  you  ?  " 

I  told  him. 

"  Then  come  with  me,  and  I  shall  hide  you, 
my  boy.  Don't  be  afraid.  I  am  your  uncle. 
Don't  you  recognize  me?" 

He  took  me  by  the  arm,  and  I  went  after 
him.  Then  I  noticed  that  the  children  of  my 
neighborhood  were  eyeing  me  terror-stricken. 
The  womenfolk  saw  me,  wrung  their  hands, 
and  lamented  aloud. 

"  What  are  they  crying  about?  "  I  wondered. 

"  Do  you  want  some  candy?  Your  uncle  has 
plenty  of  it,"  said  he,  bending  over  me,  as  if  to 
protect  me.  "  Or  maybe  your  feet  hurt  you  ? 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  23 

Let  your  uncle  take  you  on  his  arms."  As  soon 
as  I  heard  "  candy,"  I  felt  that  the  man  was  the 
Catcher  himself,  and  I  tried  to  break  away. 
But  the  "  uncle  "  held  me  fast.  Then  I  began 
to  yell.  It  was  near  our  house,  and  the  people 
of  our  alley  rushed  towards  us,  some  yelling, 
some  crying,  some  armed  with  sticks.  Pretty 
soon  I  recognized  my  mother's  voice  in  the 
mixture  of  voices  and  noises.  You  see,  peculiar 
is  the  charm  of  a  mother's  voice :  a  knife  may  be 
held  to  one's  throat,  but  the  mere  sound  of 
mother's  voice  awakens  new  courage  and  begets 
new  hope.  Mother  made  a  way  for  herself, 
and  fell  upon  the  Catcher  like  a  wild  beast. 
She  struck,  she  pinched,  she  scratched,  she 
pulled  his  hair,  she  bit  him.  But  what  can  a 
woman  do  in  the  line  of  beating?  Nothing! 
Her  neighbors  joined  her,  one,  two,  three;  and 
all  tried  hard  to  take  me  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Catcher.  What  can  a  few  women  do  against 


24  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

one  able-bodied  man?  Nothing  at  all!  That 
happened  during  the  dinner  hour.  One  of  our 
neighbors  got  the  best  of  the  Catcher,  a  woman 
who  happened  rather  to  dislike  me  and  my 
mother;  they  quarreled  frequently.  Perhaps 
on  account  of  this  very  dislike  she  was  not  over- 
excited, and  was  able  to  hit  upon  the  right 
course  to  take  at  the  critical  moment.  She  went 
to  her  house,  took  in  one  hand  a  potful  of 
roasted  groats,  ready  for  dinner,  and  in  the 
other  a  kettle  of  boiling  water.  Unnoticed 
she  approached  the  Catcher,  spilled  the  hot 
groats  upon  his  hands,  and  at  the  same  time  she 
poured  the  boiling  water  over  them.  A  wild 
yell  escaped  from  the  mouth  of  the  Catcher — 
and  I  was  free. — 

There  was  no  more  tobacco  in  the  pipe,  and 
the  old  man  lost  his  speech.  That  was  the  way 
of  Samuel  the  Beadle ;  he  could  tell  his  story  only 
from  behind  the  smoke  of  his  pipe,  when  he 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  25 

did  not  see  his  hearers,  nor  his  hearers  saw  him. 
In  that  way  he  found  it  easy  to  put  his  boyhood 
before  his  mind's  eye  and  conjure  up  the  rem- 
iniscences of  those  days.  Meanwhile  the  horses 
had  stopped,  and  let  us  know  that  a  high  and 
steep  hill  was  ahead  of  us,  and  that  it  was  our 
turn  to  trudge  through  the  mud.  We  had  to 
submit  to  the  will  of  the  animals,  and  we  dis- 
mounted. 

Ill 

After  tramping  a  while  alongside  the  coach, 
the  old  man  lit  his  pipe,  emitted  a  cloud  of 
smoke,  and  continued : — 

I  do  not  know  what  happened  then.  I  cannot 
tell  who  caught  me,  nor  the  place  I  was  taken 
to.  I  must  have  been  in  a  trance  all  the  while. 

When  I  awoke,  I  found  myself  surrounded 
by  a  flock  of  sheep,  in  a  meadow  near  the  woods. 
Near  me  was  my  brother  Solomon ;  but  I  hardly 


26  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

recognized  him.  He  wore  peasant  clothes:  a 
linen  shirt  turned  out  over  linen  breeches  and 
gathered  in  by  a  broad  belt.  I  was  eyeing  my 
brother,  and  he  was  eyeing  me,  both  of  us 
equally  bewildered,  for  I  was  disguised  like 
himself. 

A  little  boy,  a  real  peasant  boy,  was  standing 
near  us.  He  smiled  at  us  in  a  good-natured, 
hospitable  way.  It  was  the  chore-boy  of  the 
Jewish  quarter.  On  the  Sabbaths  of  the  winter 
months  he  kept  up  the  fires  in  the  Jewish  houses ; 
that  is  why  he  could  jabber  a  few  words  of 
Yiddish.  During  the  summer  he  took  care  of 
the  flocks  of  the  peasants  that  lived  in  the 
neighborhood. 

When  I  awoke,  my  mother  was  with  us  too. 
She  kissed  us  amid  tears,  gave  us  some  bread 
and  salt,  and,  departing,  strictly  forbade  us  to 
speak  any  Yiddish.  "  For  God's  sake,  speak  no 
Yiddish,"  said  she,  "  you  might  be  recognized ! 
Hide  here  till  the  Catcher  leaves  town." 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  27 

It  was  easy  enough  to  say,  "  Speak  no  Yid- 
dish " ;  but  did  we  know  how  to  speak  any  other 
language? 

I  saw  then  that  I  was  in  a  sort  of  hiding-place 
• — a  hiding-place  under  the  open  sky !  I  realized 
that  I  had  escaped  from  houses,  garrets,  and 
cellars,  merely  to  hide  in  the  open  field  between 
heaven  and  earth.  I  had  fled  from  darkness, 
to  hide  in  broad  daylight ! 

Indeed,  it  was  not  light  that  I  had  to  fear. 
Nor  was  it  the  sun,  the  moon,  or  the  sheep. 
It  was  only  man  that  I  had  to  avoid. 

Mother  went  away  and  left  us  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  little  shepherd  boy.  And  he  was 
a  good  boy,  indeed.  He  watched  us  to  the  best 
of  his  ability.  As  soon  as  he  saw  any  one 
approach  our  place,  he  called  out  loudly :  "  No, 
no ;  these  boys  are  not  Jewish  boys  at  all !  On 
my  life,  they  are  not !  " 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  stranger  did  happen  to 


28  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

visit  our  place ;  but  he  was  only  a  butcher,  who 
came  to  buy  sheep  for  slaughtering. 

Well,  the  sun  had  set,  and  night  came.  It 
was  my  first  night  under  the  open  sky.  I  suf- 
fered greatly  from  fear,  for  there  was  no 
Mezuzah  anywhere  near  me.  I  put  my  hand 
under  my  Shaatnez  clothes,  and  felt  my  Tzitzis : 
they,  too,  seemed  to  be  in  hiding,  for  they 
shook  in  my  hand. 

Over  us  the  dark  night  sky  was  spread 
out,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  stars  were 
so  many  omens  whose  meaning  I  could  not 
make  out.  But  I  felt  certain  that  they  meant 
nothing  good  so  far  as  I  was  concerned.  All 
kinds  of  whispers,  sizzling  sounds  of  the  night, 
reached  my  ears,  and  I  knew  not  where  they 
came  from. 

Looking  down,  I  saw  sparks  a-twinkling.  I 
knew  they  were  stars  reflected  in  the  near-by 
stream.  But  soon  I  thought  it  was  not  the 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  29 

water  and  the  stars :  the  sheen  of  the  water  be- 
came the  broad  smile  of  some  giant  stretched 
out  flat  upon  the  ground;  and  the  sparks  were 
the  twinkling  of  his  eyes.  And  the  sheep  were 
not  sheep  at  all,  but  some  strange  creatures 
moving  to  and  fro,  spreading  out,  and  coming 
together  again  in  knotted  masses.  I  imagined 
they  all  were  giants  bewitched  to  appear  as 
sheep  by  day  and  to  become  giants  again  by 
night.  Then  I  knew  too  well  that  the  thick, 
dark  forest  was  behind  me;  and  what  doesn't 
one  find  in  a  forest?  Is  there  an  unholy  spirit 
that  cannot  be  found  there  ?  Z-z-z —  -  a  sud- 
den sizzling  whisper  reached  my  ear,  and  I  be- 
gan to  cry. 

"  Why  don't  you  sleep  ?  "  asked  the  shepherd 
boy  in  his  broken  Yiddish. 

"I  am  afraid!" 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of?  " 

«  Of— of— the  woods  . 


30  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

"  Ha — ha — ha — I  have  good  dogs  with  the 
flock!" 

I  wanted  a  Mezuzah,  some  talisman,  a  pro- 
tection against  evil  spirits,  and  that  fool  offered 
me  barking  dogs!  All  at  once  he  whistled 
loudly,  and  his  dogs  set  up  a  barking  that  nearly 
made  me  deaf.  The  flock  was  panic-stricken.  I 
thought  at  first  that  the  earth  had  opened  her 
mouth,  and  packs  of  dogs  were  breaking  out 
from  hell. 

The  noise  the  dogs  made  broke  the  awful 
hush  of  the  night,  and  my  fears  were  somewhat 
dispelled. 

But  there  were  other  reasons  why  I  liked  to 
hear  the  dogs  bark.  I  was  myself  the  owner  of 
a  dog,  which  I  had  raised  on  the  sly  in  my 
father's  house.  Imagine  the  horror  of  my 
brother  Solomon,  who  as  a  real  Jewish  lad  was 
very  much  afraid  of  a  dog! 

In  that  way  we  spent  a  few  days,  hiding  under 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  31 

the  open  sky,  disguised  in  our  Shaatnez  clothes. 
Soon  enough  the  time  came  when  my  parents 
had  to  understand  what  they  would  not  under- 
stand when  the  rabbi  wanted  to  give  me  up  in 
place  of  the  famous  Avremel.  For  they  caught 
my  oldest  brother  Simhah,  may  he  rest  in  peace. 
And  Simhah  was  a  privileged  person;  he  was 
not  only  the  Shohet  of  the  community  and  a 
great  Lamdan,  but  also  a  married  man,  and 
the  father  of  four  children  to  boot.  Only  then, 
it  seems,  my  parents  understood  what  the  rabbi 
had  understood  before :  that  it  was  not  fair  to 
deliver  up  my  brother  when  I,  the  ignorant 
fellow,  the  lover  of  dogs,  might  take  his  place. 
A  few  days  later  mother  came  and  took  us 
home.  As  to  the  rest,  others  had  seen  to  it. — ; 

Here  the  old  man  stopped  for  a  while.  He 
was  puffing  and  snorting,  tired  from  the  hard 
walk  uphill.  Having  reached  the  summit,  he 
turned  around,  looked  downhill,  straightened 


32  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

up,  and  took  a  deep  breath.  "  This  is  an  excel- 
lent way  of  getting  rid  of  your  tired  feeling," 
said  he.  "Turn  around  and  look  downhill: 
then  your  strength  will  return  to  you." — 

IV 

We  had  left  the  coach  far  behind,  and  had  to 
wait  till  it  overtook  us.  Meanwhile  I  looked 
downhill  into  the  valley  below:  it  was  a  ver- 
itable sea  of  slush.  The  teams  that  followed 
curs  sank  into  it,  and  seemed  not  to  be  moving 
at  all.  The  oblique  rays  of  the  setting  sun, 
reflected  and  radiating  in  every  direction,  lent 
a  peculiar  glitter  to  the  slushy  wagons  and  the 
broken  sheet  of  mire,  as  if  pointing  out  their 
beauty  to  the  darkening  sky.  So  much  light 
wasted,  I  thought.  But  on  the  summit  of  the 
hill  on  which  I  was  standing,  the  direct  rays  of 
the  sun  promised  a  good  hour  more  of  day- 
light. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  33 

The  old  man  drew  breath,  and  continued  his 
story : — 

Well,  I  was  caught,  and  put  into  prison.  I 
was  not  alone.  Many  young  boys  had  been 
brought  there.  Some  were  crying  bitterly; 
some  looked  at  their  companions  wonderingly. 
We  were  told  that  the  next  day  we  should  be 
taken  away  to  some  place,  and  that  the  rabbi 
wished  to  come  to  see  us,  but  was  not  permitted 
to  enter  our  prison. 

Yes,  a  good  man  was  the  rabbi,  may  he  rest 
in  peace;  yet  he  was  compelled  to  cheat  for 
once.  And  when  an  honest  man  is  compelled 
to  cheat  he  may  outdo  the  cleverest  crook.  Do 
you  want  to  know  what  the  rabbi  did  ?  He  dis- 
guised himself  as  a  peasant,  went  out,  and 
walked  the  streets  with  the  rolling  gait  of  a 
drunkard.  The  night  guards  stopped  him,  and 
asked  him  what  his  business  was.  "  I  am  a 
thief,"  said  the  rabbi.  Then  the  guards 


34  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

arrested  him,  and  put  him  into  the  prison  with 
us. 

In  the  darkness  of  that  night  the  rabbi  never 
ceased  talking  to  us,  swallowing  his  own  tears 
all  the  while.  He  told  us  the  story  of  Joseph 
the  righteous.  It  had  been  decreed  in  Heaven, 
said  the  rabbi,  that  his  brethren  should  sell 
Joseph  into  slavery.  And  it  was  the  will  of  the 
Almighty  that  Joseph  should  come  to  Egypt, 
to  show  the  Egyptians  that  there  is  only  one 
God  in  Heaven,  and  that  the  Children  of  Israel 
are  the  chosen  people. 

[Then  the  rabbi  examined  us :  Did  we  know 
our  Modeh-Ani  by  heart?  Did  we  know  our 
Shema  ? 

He  told  us  that  we  should  be  taken  very,  very 
far  away,  that  we  should  be  away  many,  many 
years,  and  should  become  soldiers  when  grown 
up.  Then  he  warned  us  never  to  eat  of  any 
food  forbidden  by  the  Jewish  law,  and  never 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  35 

to  forget  the  God  of  Israel  and  our  own  people, 
even  if  they  tore  our  flesh  with  thorns.  He 
told  us  also  the  story  of  the  Ten  Martyrs,  who 
sacrificed  their  lives  to  sanctify  the  God  of 
Israel.  He  told  us  of  the  mother  and  her 
seven  children  that  were  killed  for  having  re- 
fused to  bow  before  idols;  and  he  told  us  many 
more  such  things.  All  those  saints  and 
martyrs,  he  said,  are  now  in  Paradise,  enjoying 
the  bliss  of  the  Divine  Presence.  That  night 
I  really  envied  those  saints;  I  longed  with  all 
my  heart  to  be  forced  to  bow  to  idols,  to  have 
to  withstand  all  sorts  of  trials,  so  as  to  enjoy, 
after  my  death,  the  bliss  of  the  Divine  Presence 
in  Paradise. 

Many  more  stories  the  rabbi  told  us;  many 
more  words  of  warning,  encouragement,  and 
praise  came  from  his  lips,  till  I  really  believed 
I  was  the  one  whom  God  had  picked  out  from 
among  my  equals,  to  be  put  through  great  trials 
and  temptations.  .  .  . 


36  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Morning  came,  and  the  guard  entered  the 
prison.  Then  the  rabbi  turned  towards  us,  and 
said:  "  Lambs  of  the  God  of  Israel,  we  have 
to  part  now :  I  am  going  to  be  lashed  and  im- 
prisoned for  having  entered  this  place  by  a  trick, 
and  you  will  be  taken  into  exile,  to  undergo 
your  trials !  I  may  hardly  expect  to  be  found 
worthy  of  surviving  till  you  return.  But  there, 
in  the  world-of-truth,  we  shall  surely  meet. 
May  it  be  the  will  of  God  that  I  may  have  no 
reason  to  be  ashamed  of  you  there,  before  Him 
and  His  angels,  in  Heaven !  " 

We  parted,  and  the  words  of  the  rabbi  sank 
deep  into  my  heart. 

Then  they  began  dumping  us  into  wagons. 
The  obstreperous  boys,  who  tried  to  run  away, 
were  many  of  them  bound  with  ropes  and 
thrown  into  the  wagon.  Of  course,  we  all 
howled. 

I  did  not  hear  my  own  voice,  nor  the  voice  of 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  37 

my  neighbor.  It  was  all  one  great  howl.  A 
crowd  of  men  and  women  followed  our  wagon 
— the  parents  of  the  boys.  Very  likely  they 
cried,  too;  but  we  could  not  hear  their  voices. 
The  town,  the  fields,  heaven  and  earth,  seemed 
to  cry  with  us. 

I  caught  sight  of  my  parents,  and  my  heart 
was  filled  with  something  like  anger  and  hatred. 
I  felt  that  I  had  been  sacrificed  for  my  brother. 

My  mother,  among  many  other  mothers, 
approached  the  wagon,  looked  at  me,  and 
apparently  read  my  thoughts :  she  fainted  away, 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  The  accident  held  up 
the  crowd,  which  busied  itself  with  reviving  my 
mother,  while  our  wagon  rolled  away. 

My  heart  was  filled  with  a  mixture  of  anger, 
pity,  and  terror.  In  that  mood  of  mixed  feel- 
ings I  parted  from  my  parents. 

We  cried  and  cried,  got  tired,  and  finally  be- 
came still  from  sheer  exhaustion.  Presently  a 


38  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

noise  reached  our  ears,  something  like  the  yell- 
ing of  children.  We  thought  it  was  another 
wagonload  of  boys  like  ourselves.  But  soon  we 
found  out  our  mistake :  it  was  but  a  wagonload 
of  sheep  that  were  being  taken  to  slaugh- 
ter. .  .  . 

Of  course,  we  ate  nothing  the  whole  of  that 
day,  though  the  mothers  had  not  failed  to  pro- 
vide us  with  food.  Meanwhile  the  sun  had  set; 
it  got  dark,  and  the  boys,  who  had  been  bound 
with  ropes,  were  released  by  the  guard:  he 
knew  they  would  not  attempt  to  escape  at  that 
time.  We  fell  asleep,  but  every  now  and  then 
one  of  the  boys  would  wake  up,  crying,  quietly 
at  first,  then  louder  and  louder.  Then  another 
would  join  him;  one  more,  and  yet  one  more, 
till  we  all  were  yelling  in  chorus,  filling  the 
night  air  with  our  bitter  cries.  Even  the  guard 
could  not  stand  it;  he  scolded  us,  and  be- 
labored us  with  his  whip.  That  crying  of  ours 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  39 

reminds  me  of  what  we  read  in  Lamentations : 
"  Weeping  she  hath  wept  in  the  night.  .  .  ." 
Morning  came,  and  found  us  all  awake :  we 
were  waiting  for  daylight.  We  believed  it 
would  bring  us  freedom,  that  angels  would 
descend  from  Heaven,  just  as  they  had  de- 
scended to  our  father  Jacob,  to  smite  our  guard 
and  set  us  free.  At  the  same  time,  the  rising 
sun  brought  us  all  a  feeling  of  hunger.  We 
began  to  sigh,  each  and  every  one  of  us  sepa- 
rately. But  the  noise  we  made  did  not  amount 
even  to  the  barking  of  a  few  dogs  or  the  cawing 
of  a  few  crows.  That  is  what  hunger  can  do. 
And  when  the  guard  had  distributed  among  us 
some  of  the  food  we  had  brought  with  us,  we 
ate  it  with  relish,  and  felt  satisfied.  At  the 
same  time  we  began  to  feel  the  discomfort  we 
were  causing  one  another,  cooped  up  as  we  were 
in  the  wagon.  I  began  to  complain  of  my 
neighbor,  who  was  sitting  on  my  legs.  He 


40  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

claimed  that  I  was  pressing  against  him  with 
my  shoulder.  We  all  began  to  look  up  to  the 
guard,  as  if  expecting  that  he  could  or  would 
prevent  us  from  torturing  one  another. 

Still  I  had  some  fun  even  on  that  day  of 
weeping.  I  happened  to  turn  around,  and 
I  noticed  that  Barker,  my  dog,  was  running 
after  our  wagon. 

"  Too  bad,  foolish  Barker,"  said  I,  laughing 
at  him  in  spite  of  my  heartache.  "  Do  you 
think  I  am  going  to  a  feast?  It  is  into  exile  that 
I  am  going;  and  what  do  you  run  after  me 
for?  "— 

This  made  old  Samuel  laugh;  he  laughed 
like  a  child,  as  if  the  thing  had  just  happened 
before  his  eyes,  and  as  if  it  were  really  comical. 
Meanwhile  our  coach  had  reached  the  top  of 
the  hill;  we  jumped  into  our  seats,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  make  one  another  uncomfortable. 

The  old  man  glanced  at  his  son,  who  was 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  41 

sitting  opposite  to  him.  It  was  a  loving  and 
tender  look,  issuing  from  under  long  shaggy 
eyebrows,  a  beautiful,  gentle,  almost  motherly 
look,  out  of  accord  with  the  hard-set  face  of  an 
irritable  and  stern  father. 

The  old  man  made  his  son's  seat  comfortable 
for  him,  and  then  fell  silent. 

V 

I  am  going  to  pass  over  a  long  time — re- 
sumed the  old  man  later.  There  was  much 
traveling  and  many  stops;  much  tramping  on 
foot,  with  legs  swollen ;  but  all  that  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  subject. 

Once  in  a  while  our  guard  would  get  angry 
at  us,  curse  us  bitterly,  and  strike  us  with  his 
whip.  "  You  cursed  Jews,"  he  would  say,  "  do 
I  owe  you  anything  that  I  should  suffer  so  much 
on  your  account,  and  undergo  all  the  hardships 
of  travel?" 


42  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Indeed,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in 
what  he  said.  For,  willingly  or  unwillingly, 
we  did  give  him  much  trouble.  Had  we  died, 
say  the  year  before,  or  even  at  that  very 
moment,  he  would  not  have  been  put  to  the 
necessity  of  leading  a  crowd  of  half-dumb  boys. 
He  would  not  have  had  to  stand  the  hardships 
of  travel,  and  would  not  have  been  compelled 
to  listen  to  the  wailings  of  children  torn  from 
the  arms  of  their  parents.  Or  do  you  think  it 
is  agreeable  to  feel  that  little  children  consider 
you  a  hard  and  cruel  man?  When  I  grew  up 
and  served  in  the  army  myself,  and  had  people 
below  me  in  age  and  position  under  my  com- 
mand, I  came  to  understand  the  troubles  of  our 
guard;  so  that  now,  after  having  gone  through 
many  experiences,  after  I  have  passed,  as  they 
say,  through  fire  and  water,  I  may  confess  that 
I  bear  no  malice  towards  all  those  at  whose 
hands  I  suffered.  There  are  many  ex-Canton- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  43 

ists  who  cannot  forget  the  birch-rod,  for  in- 
stance. Well,  so  much  is  true :  for  every  mis- 
step, for  every  sign  of  disobedience  a  whip- 
ping was  due.  If  one  of  us  refused  to  kneel  in 
prayer  before  the  crucifix;  if  one  of  us  refused 
to  eat  pork;  if  one  of  us  was  caught  mumbling 
a  Hebrew  prayer  or  speaking  Yiddish,  he  was 
sure  to  get  a  flogging.  Twenty,  thirty,  forty, 
or  even  full  fifty  lashes  were  the  punishment. 
But,  then,  is  it  conceivable  that  they  could  have 
treated  us  any  other  way?  Why,  hundreds  of 
Jewish  children  that  did  not  understand  a  word 
of  Russian  had  been  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
a  Russian  official  that  did  not  understand  a 
word  of  Yiddish.  He  would  say,  Take  off  my 
boots,  and  the  boy  would  wash  his  hands.  He 
would  say,  Sit  down,  and  the  boy  would  stand 
up.  Were  we  not  like  dumb  cattle?  It  was 
only  the  rod  that  we  understood  well.  And  the 
rod  taught  us  to  understand  our  master's  orders 
by  the  mere  expression  of  his  eyes. 


44  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Then  many  of  the  ex-Cantonists  still  remem- 
ber with  horror  the  steam-bath  they  were  com- 
pelled to  take.  "  The  chamber  of  hell,"  they 
called  the  bath.  At  first  blush,  it  would  really 
seem  to  have  been  an  awful  thing.  They  would 
pick  out  all  the  Cantonists  that  had  so  much  as 
a  scratch  on  their  bodies  or  the  smallest  sign 
of  an  eruption,  paint  the  wounds  with  tar,  and 
put  the  boys,  stripped,  on  the  highest  shelf  in 
the  steam-bath.  And  below  was  a  row  of  at- 
tendants armed  with  birch-rods.  The  kettle 
was  boiling  fiercely,  the  stones  were  red-hot,  and 
the  attendants  emptied  jars  of  boiling  water 
ceaselessly  upon  the  stones.  The  steam  would 
rise,  penetrate  every  pore  of  the  skin,  and — 
sting!  sting! — enter  into  the  very  flesh.  The 
pain  was  horrible ;  it  pricked,  and  pricked,  and 
there  was  no  air  to  breathe.  It  was  simply 
choking.  If  the  boy  happened  to  roll  down, 
those  below  stood  ready  to  meet  him  with  the 
rods. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  45 

All  this  is  true.  At  the  same  time,  was  it 
mere  cruelty?  It  is  very  simple :  we  were  a  lot 
of  Jewish  lads  snatched  from  the  arms  of  our 
mothers.  On  the  eve  of  every  Sabbath  our 
mothers  would  take  us  in  hand,  wash  us,  comb 
our  hair,  change  our  underwear,  and  dress  us 
in  our  Sabbath  clothes.  All  at  once  we  were 
taken  into  exile.  Days,  weeks,  nay,  months,  we 
passed  in  the  dust  of  the  roads,  in  perspiration 
and  dirt,  and  sleeping  on  the  ground.  Our 
underwear  had  not  been  changed.  No  water 
had  touched  our  bodies.  So  we  became  afflicted 
with  all  kinds  of  eruptions.  That  is  why  we 
had  to  pass  through  what  we  called  "  the  cham- 
ber of  hell."  And  this  will  give  you  an  idea  of 
the  rest. 

To  make  a  long  story  short :  there  were  many 
of  us,  and  we  were  distributed  in  various  places. 
Many  of  the  boys  had  taken  ill ;  many  died  on 
the  road.  The  survivors  were  distributed 


46  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

among  the  peasants,  to  be  brought  up  by  them 
till  they  reached  the  age  of  entering  the  army. 
I  was  among  the  latter.  Many  months,  maybe 
even  years,  I  passed  in  knocking  about  from 
village  to  village,  from  town  to  town,  till,  at 
last,  I  came  into  the  joint  possession  of  a  certain 
Peter  Semionovich  Khlopov  and  his  wife  Anna 
Petrovna.  My  master  was  neither  old  nor 
young;  he  was  neither  a  plain  peasant  nor  a 
nobleman.  He  was  the  clerk  of  the  village. 
In  those  days  that  was  considered  a  genteel 
occupation,  honorable  and  well-paid.  He  had 
no  sons,  but  he  had  one  daughter,  Marusya  by 
name.  She  was  then  about  fourteen  years  old, 
very  good-looking,  gay,  and  rather  wild. 

According  to  the  regulations,  all  the  Can- 
tonists  in  the  village  had  to  report  daily  for 
military  drill  and  exercise  on  the  drill  grounds 
before  the  house  of  the  sergeant.  He  lived  in 
the  same  village.  At  the  request  of  my  patron 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  47 

Khlopov  I  was  excused  from  the  daily  drill, 
and  had  to  report  but  once  a  week.  You  see, 
Peter  expected  to  derive  some  benefit  from  me 
by  employing  me  about  the  house  and  in  the 
field. 

Now  it  was  surely  through  the  merits  of  my 
ancestors  that  I  happened  to  be  placed  in  the 
household  of  Peter  Khlopov.  Peter  himself 
spent  but  little  of  his  time  at  home.  Most  of 
the  time  he  was  at  the  office,  and  his  free 
moments  he  liked  to  spend  at  the  tavern,  which 
was  owned  by  the  only  Jew  in  the  village,  "  our 
Moshko  "  the  Khlopovs  used  to  call  him.  But 
whenever  he  happened  to  be  at  home,  Peter  was 
very  kind  to  me,  especially  when  he  was  just  a 
little  tipsy.  Perhaps  he  dreamt  of  adopting  me 
as  his  son :  he  had  no  sons  of  his  own.  And  he 
tried  to  make  me  like  military  service.  '*  When 
you  grow  up,"  he  used  to  say,  "  you  will  become 
an  officer,  and  wear  a  sword.  Soldiers  will 


48  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

stand  at  attention  before  you,  and  salute  you. 
You  will  win  distinction  in  battle,  and  be  found 
worthy  of  being  presented  to  the  Czar."  He 
also  told  me  stories  of  Russian  military  life. 
By  that  time  I  had  learned  some  Russian.  They 
were  really  nice  stories,  as  far  as  I  could  under- 
stand them;  but  they  were  made  nicer  yet  by 
what  I  could  not  understand  of  them.  For  then 
I  was  free  to  add  something  to  the  stories  my- 
self, or  change  them  according  to  my  own  fancy. 
If  you  are  a  lover  of  stories,  take  the  advice  of 
a  plain  old  man  like  myself.  Never  pay  any 
attention  to  stories  in  which  everything  has 
been  prepared  from  the  very  start,  and  you  can 
tell  the  end  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  read  them 
or  listen  to  them.  Such  stories  make  one  yawn 
and  fall  asleep.  Stories  of  this  kind  my  daugh- 
ter reads  to  me  once  in  a  while,  and  I  always 
• 

fall  asleep  over  them.  Stories  are  good  only 
when  told  the  way  Khlopov  used  to  tell  them  to 
me. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  49 

But  that  is  all  irrelevant.  In  short,  Khlopov 
was  kind  to  me. 

As  to  Anna,  she  was  entirely  different.  She 
was  close-mouthed,  ill-tempered,  and  a  great 
stay-at-home.  She  never  visited  her  neighbors, 
and  they,  in  turn,  called  on  her  very  rarely.  In 
the  village  she  was  spoken  of  as  a  snob  and  a 
hypocrite.  Peter  was  afraid  of  her  as  of  the 
plague,  especially  in  his  sober  hours.  All  her 
power  lay  in  her  eyes.  When  that  strong  man 
— he  who  had  the  whole  village  in  the  palm  of 
his  hand — felt  her  eye  fixed  on  him,  his  strength 
left  him.  It  seemed  as  if  some  devil  were  ready 
to  jump  out  of  that  eye  and  turn  the  house 
topsyturvy.  You  fellows  are  mere  youngsters, 
you  have  seen  nothing  of  the  world  yet;  but 
take  it  from  me,  there  are  eyes  that  seem  quite 
harmless  when  you  first  look  into  them.  But 
just  try  to  arouse  their  temper :  you  will  see  a 
hellish  fire  spring  up  in  them.  Have  you  ever 


50  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

looked  into  my  Rebekah's  eyes  ?  Well,  beware 
of  eyes. 

The  look  Anna  gave  me  when  I  first  entered 
her  house  promised  me  nothing  good.  She 
hated  me  heartily.  She  never  called  me  by  my 
own  name.  She  called  me  "  Zhid  "  all  the  time, 
in  a  tone  of  deep  hatred  and  contempt. 

Among  the  orders  the  Cantonists  had  to 
obey  were  the  following:  to  speak  no  Yiddish; 
to  say  no  Jewish  prayer;  to  recite  daily  a  certain 
prayer  before  the  image  of  the  Virgin  and  be- 
fore the  crucifix,  and  not  to  abstain  from  non- 
kosher  food. 

With  regard  to  all  injunctions  except  the  last, 
Anna  was  very  strict  with  me.  But  she  was 
not  very  particular  as  to  the  last  injunction. 
Out  of  sheer  stinginess  she  fed  me  on  bread  and 
vegetables,  and  that  in  the  kitchen.  Once  she 
did  offer  me  some  meat,  and  I  refused  to  touch 
it  Then  she  got  very  angry,  flew  into  a  temper, 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  51 

and -decided  to  complain  to  the  sergeant.  But 
Peter  did  not  let  her  be  so  cruel.  "  Let  him 
grow  up,  he  will  know  better,"  said  Peter,  wav- 
ing his  hand  at  me. 

Then  Anna  made  up  her  mind  to  force  me 
to  eat  forbidden  meat.  But  I  was  obstinate. 
And  she  decided  once  more  to  complain  to  the 
sergeant.  Just  at  that  time  another  Cantonist 
had  been  found  guilty  of  some  offense.  He 
belonged  to  the  same  village;  his  name  was 
Jacob.  I  did  not  know  him  at  that  time.  His 
patron  complained  that  Jacob  persisted  in  recit- 
ing Hebrew  prayers,  and  that  he  abstained 
from  meat.  Jacob  was  condemned  to  twenty 
lashes  with  rods.  An  order  was  issued  that  all 
Cantonists  should  assemble  to  witness  the  flog- 
ging of  the  offender. 

In  the  course  of  time  we  got  used  to  such 
sights;  but  the  first  time  we  were  terribly 
shocked.  Just  imagine :  a  lad  of  about  fifteen  is 


52  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

stripped,  put  on  the  ground  face  downwards; 
one  man  sits  on  his  head,  and  another  on  his  feet. 
Two  men  are  put  on  either  side  of  him,  each 
with  a  bundle  of  birch-rods  in  his  hand.  Ten 
times  each  of  them  has  to  strike  him  with  the 
rods,  to  make  up  the  twenty  lashes.  I  looked  at 
the  face  of  the  culprit :  it  was  as  white  as  chalk. 
His  lips  were  moving.  I  thought  he  was  recit- 
ing the  prayer:  "  And  He,  the  Merciful,  will 
forgive  sin,  and  will  not  destroy  .  .  .  ."  Up 
went  the  rods,  down  they  went :  a  piercing  cry 
....  blood  ....  flaps  of  loose  skin  .... 
cries  ....  "  one,  two,  three  "  .  .  .  .  again 
cries  ....  sudden  silence  ....  more  cries 
....  again  silence  .  .  .  .  "  four,  five  "  .  .  .  . 
"stop!" 

Because  the  culprit  fainted,  the  sergeant  in 
the  goodness  of  his  heart  divided  the  punish- 
ment into  two  parts.  Jacob  was  carried  off  to 
the  hospital,  and  it  was  put  down  in  the  book 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  53 

that  he  was  to  get  ten  more  lashes  after  his 
recovery. 

I  went  home. 

Had  Anna  given  me  a  piece  of  pork  to  eat 
that  evening,  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  have 
done. 

That  night  I  saw  the  old  rabbi  in  my  dream. 
He  was  standing  before  me,  with  bowed  head 
and  tears  dropping  from  his  eyes 

I  do  not  remember  the  way  Marusya  treated 
me  at  first.  But  I  do  remember  the  look  she 
gave  me  when  I  first  entered  her  father's  house. 
There  are  trifling  matters  that  one  remembers 
forever.  Hers  was  a  telltale  look,  wild  and 
merry.  It  is  hard  to  describe  it  in  words — as 
if  she  wanted  to  say,  "  Welcome,  friend!  You 
did  well  in  coming  here.  I  need  just  you  to 
pass  my  leisure  hours  with  me  1  "  And  she 
really  needed  someone  like  myself,  for  she 
never  associated  with  the  children  of  the  village. 


54  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

The  beautiful  lively  girl  used  to  have  her  fits  of 
the  blues.  Then  it  was  impossible  to  look  at 
her  face  without  pitying  her.  At  such  times 
her  mother  could  not  get  a  word  out  of  her,  and 
the  whole  expression  of  her  face  was  changed  to 
such  an  extent  that  she  seemed  to  have  aged 
suddenly.  She  would  look  the  very  image  of 
her  mother  then.  And  a  peculiar  expression 
would  steal  over  her  face,  which  estranged  her 
from  other  people,  and  perhaps  brought  her 
nearer  to  me.  During  those  fits  of  despondency 
she  was  sure  to  follow  me  if  I  happened  to  leave 
the  room  and  go  outside.  She  would  join  me 
and  spend  hour  after  hour  in  childish  prattle 
with  me,  and  her  merriment  and  wildness  knew 
no  limits.  Little  by  little  I  got  used  to  her,  and 
felt,  in  turn,  a  longing  for  her  company  during 
my  own  fits  of  lonesomeness. 

The  day  after  I  had  witnessed  Jacob's  pun- 
ishment I  felt  miserable.     I  was  restless  and 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  55 

excitable,  and  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
myself.  I  thought  my  heart  would  burst  within 
me.  I  asked  myself  all  kinds  of  questions: 
What  am  I  doing  here  ?  What  did  I  come  here 
for?  What  are  all  those  people  to  me?  As  if 
I  had  come  there  only  the  day  before,  and  of 
my  own  free  will.  .  .  . 

Marusya  looked  sharply  at  me.  Very  likely 
she  recognized  that  something  was  worrying 
me.  I  felt  a  -desire  to  share  my  feelings  with 
her.  I  got  up  and  walked  out  into  the  garden 
behind  the  house.  In  a  moment  she  followed 
me.  I  made  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  told  her 
all  I  had  had  to  witness  the  day  before. 

She  listened,  shivering,  and  asked  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice : 

"  And  what  did  they  beat  him  for?  " 

"  He  said  a  Hebrew  prayer,  and  refused  to 
eat  meat." 

"  And  why  did  he  refuse  to  eat  meat?  " 


56  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

"  It  is  forbidden." 

"Forbidden?  Why?" 

I  was  silent. 

She  also  became  silent ;  then  she  laid  her  hand 
on  me,  and  said  with  her  usual  merriment: 

"  They  will  not  beat  you." 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  The  sergeant  is  a  good  friend  of  ours." 

"  But  if  your  mother  should  complain  about 
me?" 

"  Then  I  shall  go  in  your  stead,  if  they  should 
decide  to  switch  you." 

She  laughed  heartily  at  her  own  suggestion. 
Her  laughter  made  me  laugh,  too;  we  both 
laughed,  and  laughed  without  knowing  why. 
And  in  a  mood  completely  changed  I  returned 
to  the  house.  After  that  I  felt  very  near  to  the 
girl. 

Well,  time  passed,  months  and  years :  I  lost 
track  of  them.  But  I  do  remember  that  the 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  57 

time  had  come  when  I  knew  enough  Russian 
to  make  myself  understood,  was  fit  for  any 
kind  of  work  about  the  house  and  in  the  field, 
and  could  give  my  patron  entire  satisfaction. 

One  day,  I  remember,  I  tried  very  hard  to 
have  my  work  well  and  promptly  done,  so  as  to 
earn,  for  once,  the  good-will  of  Anna  herself.  I 
felt  a  longing  for  the  friendly  smile  of  a  mother. 
But  Anna  kept  going  in  and  out,  and  did  not 
pay  the  least  attention  to  me.  I  was  sitting 
on  the  bench  outside  the  house  alone.  My  dog 
was  lying  at  my  feet,  looking  at  me  very  in- 
tently. His  eyes  seemed  to  be  full  of  tears. 
And  let  me  tell  you  by  the  way,  his  lot  in  the 
house  was  entirely  different  from  mine.  When 
he  first  entered  Peter's  courtyard,  the  dogs  met 
him  with  howls.  He  tried  to  find  shelter  in  the 
kitchen,  but  was  chased  out  with  sticks. 
'  Where  did  that  tramp  come  from?"  won- 
dered the  people.  Then  my  Barker  saw  that  he 


58  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

could  expect  no  charity  from  the  people,  and  he 
put  his  trust  in  his  own  teeth.  He  stood  up 
bravely,  and  fought  all  the  dogs  of  the  house- 
hold till  blood  flowed.  Then  only  did  the  mas- 
ters of  the  house  appreciate  his  doggish  virtues 
and  accomplishments.  They  befriended  him,  and 
allowed  him  his  rations.  So  my  Barker  saved 
his  skin.  Yet  his  lot  did  not  seem  to  please  him. 
He  recognized,  by  some  peculiar  dog-sense, 
that  I,  his  fellow  in  exile,  was  unhappy  myself 
and  sorry  for  him  too.  He  felt  that  somehow 
his  own  days  of  prosperity  would  not  last  long. 
Whenever  I  sat  about  lonely  and  moping,  he 
would  stretch  himself  at  my  feet,  and  look 
straight  into  my  eyes,  with  an  expression  of 
earnestness  and  wonderment,  as  if  he  wanted 
to  ask  me,  How  is  that,  why  don't  you  fight  for 
your  rights  the  way  I  did  ? 

Presently  Anna  came  out,  shot  a  glance  at 
me,  and  said: 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  59 

"  Well,  now,  there  is  the  lazy  Zhid  sitting 
idle,  and  I  have  to  work  and  prepare  meals  for 
him,  so  that  he  may  find  everything  ready!  " 
I  got  up,  and  began  to  look  around  for  some- 
thing to  do. 

"  Go,  catch  the  little  pig  and  bring  it  over 
here,"  ordered  Anna. 

The  day  before  I  had  overheard  her  say  that 
it  was  time  to  kill  the  little  pig.  I  did  not  relish 
the  job  by  any  means.  I  felt  sorry  for  the 
porkling:  mere  pig  though  it  was,  it  had  after 
all  grown  up  in  our  house.  And  it  was  hard 
on  me  to  have  a  hand  in  the  affair.  But  one 
angry  word  of  Anna's  set  me  a-going.  In  a 
moment  my  hand  was  on  the  animal,  which 
trusted  me  and  believed  in  me  implicitly.  Then 
Anna  handed  me  a  rope  to  bind  it.  I  did  as 
she  wanted;  the  pig  started  to  squeal  and 
squeak  horribly.  To  me  it  sounded  like  "  Zhid, 
Zhid,  is  that  the  way  to  treat  me?  " 


60  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Then  Anna  handed  me  a  knife,  and  showed 
me  where  to  make  the  cut.  .  .  .  The  pig 
began  to  bleed  fearfully,  gurgling,  and  choking 
with  his  own  blood.  Forthwith  Anna  ordered 
wood  to  be  brought,  a  fire  to  be  kindled,  and 
the  pig  to  be  put  upon  it.  I  did  all  as  I  had 
been  ordered.  My  dog  was  watching  me  in- 
tently, greatly  bewildered ;  the  pig  groaned  and 
groaned;  the  flames  licked  his  body  and  em- 
braced it — and  my  dog  was  barking  and  yelp- 
ing away  up  into  the  sky. 

That  night  I  dreamt  that  my  brother  the 
Shohet  and  I  were  on  trial  in  Heaven  before 
the  seat  of  judgment,  with  various  animals 
complaining  against  us.  Only  clean  fowl,  such 
as  geese,  pigeons,  and  the  like  were  complain- 
ing against  my  brother,  and  they  all  pleaded 
in  clear,  good  Hebrew,  saying,  "Was  it  for 
your  own  consumption  that  you  killed  us  all  ?  " 
....  But  it  was  only  the  pig  that  complained 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  61 

against  me,  and  it  pleaded  in  screeches  and 
grunts  that  nobody  could  understand.  .  .  . 

The  next  morning  Anna  got  up  early,  and 
made  me  stand  before  the  ikon  of  the  Virgin  and 
recite  a  certain  prayer.  At  dinner  she  seated  me 
alongside  of  Peter,  gave  me  some  roast  pork, 
and  looked  sharply  at  me.  I  guess,  while  mak- 
ing all  those  preparations,  Anna  had  only  one 
thing  in  mind:  to  put  Peter  up  against  me  while 
he  was  drunk.  I  took  fright,  and  began  to 
chew  away  at  the  pork.  But  then  the  screeches 
and  the  grunts  of  the  pig  rang  in  my  ears,  and 
I  thought  they  came  right  from  within  my  in- 
sides;  I  wondered  how  they  could  listen  to  all 
that,  and  yet  eat  the  pork  in  perfect  comfort. 
Suddenly  a  lump  in  my  throat  began  to  choke 
me.  .  .  .  Nausea,  retching  ....  and  some- 
thing happened  to  me:  I  vomited  everything 
out,  right  on  the  table.  Everybody  jumped 
away  from  the  table  in  disgust  and  anger.  I 

5 


62  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

met  Marusya's  eye,  and  was  ashamed  to  look 
into  it.  Anna  got  up,  boiling  with  rage,  took 
me  by  the  ear,  and  pulled  me  outside :  "  Get  out 
of  here,  you  dirty  Zhid;  and  don't  you  dare 
enter  my  house  any  more !  " 

Well,  she  chased  me  out.  Peter  and  Marusya 
kept  quiet.  Thoroughly  miserable,  I  dropped 
down  on  the  bench  behind  the  house;  my  dog 
stretched  himself  out  on  the  ground  at  my  feet 
and  looked  into  my  eyes.  Then  I  began  to  talk 
to  my  fellow  in  misfortune :  "  Do  you  hear, 
doggie,  we  have  been  chased  out.  .  .  .  What 
does  that  mean  ?  Did  we  come  here  of  our  own 
free  will  ?  It  is  by  force  that  we  were  brought 
here;  so  what  sense  is  there  in  chasing  us  out?  " 

And  I  thought  my  dog  understood  me;  a 
sound  came  from  the  depths  of  his  throat,  and 
died  away  there.  Then  a  thought  began  to 
haunt  me :  Maybe  it  is  really  time  to  run  away. 
If  they  run  after  me  and  overtake  me,  I  shall 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  63 

simply  say  that  my  patron  chased  me  out  of  his 
house.  And  the  thought,  Home!  to  your 
parents!  took  possession  of  me,  and  tortured 
me  ceaselessly.  Said  I  to  myself:  "If  they 
chase  me  out,  I  am  certainly  free !  "  But  then, 
just  see  the  power  of  the  birch-rod:  I  knew 
well  that  much  time  would  pass  before  my 
patron  would  notice  my  absence ;  and  before  the 
sergeant  was  informed,  and  people  were  dis- 
patched to  pursue  me,  more  time  would  pass. 
Then  I  should  be  far  away  from  the  place.  By 
that  time  I  was  quite  hardened :  I  was  not  afraid 
to  hide  in  the  woods;  devils  and  evil  spirits  I 
did  not  fear  any  more.  I  had  learned  well 
enough  that  no  devil  will  ever  trouble  a  man 
as  much  as  one  human  being  can  trouble  an- 
other. And  yet,  when  I  remembered  the  swish 
of  the  rods  over  the  naked  flesh,  the  spurting 
blood,  the  loose  flaps  of  skin,  and  the  futile 
outcries,  I  was  paralyzed  with  fear.  No,  it  was 


64  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

not  really  fear:  it  was  a  sort  of  submissive 
adoration.  Had  a  birch-rod  been  lying  near 
me,  I  should  have  kissed  it  with  fear  and  re- 
spect. It  is  hard  for  me  to  explain  to  you. 
You  youngsters  are  not  capable  of  under- 
standing. 

And  as  I  was  sitting  there,  full  of  gloomy 
thoughts,  I  did  not  notice  that  the  sun  had  set, 
and  night  had  come.  It  got  so  dark  that  I 
could  not  see  my  dog  lying  at  my  feet.  Sud- 
denly I  felt  something  touch  me  and  pass  lightly 
over  my  hair.  I  thought  it  was  an  ant  or  a  night 
moth,  and  I  raised  my  hand  to  chase  it  away. 
Then  it  changed  its  place,  and  I  felt  it  at  the 
nape  of  my  neck.  I  tried  to  catch  the  thing 
that  was  making  my  neck  itch,  and  caught  a 
hand,  soft  and  warm.  I  shuddered  and  started 
back:  before  me  was  Marusya,  bending  over 
me.  I  wanted  to  get  up,  but  she  put  her  hands 
on  me  heavily,  sat  down  at  my  side,  all  the  while 
pressing  my  hand  between  hers. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  65 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Didn't  your  mother  chase  me  out?  " 

"  That  is  nothing.  Don't  you  know  her 
temper?  That  is  her  way." 

"  She  keeps  nagging  at  me  all  the  time,  and 
calls  me  nothing  but  Zhid,  Zhid." 

"  Andwhatof  it?  Aren't  you  a  Jew  ?  Should 
I  feel  insulted  if  some  one  were  to  call  me 
Christian?!" 

I  had  nothing  to  say.  And  it  dawned  upon 
me  at  that  moment  that  I  was  really  insulting 
myself  by  objecting  to  being  called  Zhid.  True, 
Anna  meant  to  jeer  at  me  and  insult  me;  but 
did  it  depend  on  her  alone? 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?  "  asked 
Marusya. 

"  I  want  to  run  away." 

"  Without  telling  me  ?  " 

She  peered  into  my  face,  and  I  felt  as  if  two 
streams  of  warmth  had  emptied  themselves  into 


66  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

me.  My  eyes  had  become  somewhat  accus- 
tomed to  the  darkness,  and  I  could  discern  every 
movement  of  her  body.  A  delicate  smile  was 
playing  around  her  mouth,  and  my  feeling  of 
despondency  was  giving  way  before  it.  I  felt 
that  after  all  I  had  a  friend  in  the  house,  a 
good,  loving,  and  beautiful  friend. 

I  shuddered  and  broke  out  into  tears.  Then 
she  began  to  play  caressingly  with  my  hair  and 
pat  me  on  my  neck  and  face.  She  did  well  to 
let  me  have  my  cry  out.  By  and  by  I  felt  re- 
lieved. She  wanted  to  withdraw  her  hand,  but 
then  I  held  it  fast. 

"  So  you  were  going  to  run  away,  and  that 
without  my  knowledge?  "  said  she. 

"  No,"  I  said  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  And  if  I  should  ever  call  you  Zhid,  will 
you  be  angry  with  me?  " 

"  No,"  answered  I,  thoroughly  vanquished. 

"  Well,  then  you  are  a  dear  boy,  and  I  like 
you!" 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  67 

•I  felt  the  touch  of  soft,  warm  lips  on  my 
neck  ....  I  closed  my  eyes,  that  the  dark 
night  sky  and  the  shining  stars  might  not  see 
me.  And  when  I  recognized  what  had  hap- 
pened to  me,  I  felt  ashamed.  Marusya  dis- 
appeared, and  soon  returned  with  a  bag  in  her 
hand. 

"  Papa  said  you  should  go  out  with  the 
horses  for  the  night.  Here  is  some  food  in  the 
bag.  Take  it  and  go  out." 

This  she  shot  out  quickly,  and  in  a  tone  of 
authority,  as  befits  the  daughter  of  the  patron, 
and  as  if  what  had  passed  between  us  were 
nothing  but  a  dream. 

"  Going  out  for  the  night "  was  a  peculiar 
custom.  You  can  have  no  idea  of  what  it 
meant  The  logic  of  it  was  this:  The  cattle 
that  had  been  worked  the  whole  of  the  day 
were,  to  be  sure,  earning  their  fodder  for  the 
day.  And  the  owners  felt  under  obligation 


68  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

and  necessity  to  feed  them  during  their  working 
hours.  But  how  about  the  night,  when  the 
animals  rested,  and  did  no  work?  Where 
should  the  fodder  for  the  night  time  come 
from?  So  the  custom  developed  of  letting  the 
animals  browse  in  some  neighbor's  meadow 
during  the  night.  That  was  cheaper.  But  that 
neighbor  also  had  cattle;  he,  too,  had  horses 
that  did  not  earn  their  feed  during  the  night. 
Do  you  know  what  that  neighbor  did?  He  did 
the  same.  He,  too,  sent  out  his  horses  stealth- 
ily, into  his  neighbor's  meadow.  So,  in  the 
long  run,  every  one  had  his  cattle  browse 
secretly  in  some  neighbor's  meadow,  and  all 
were  happy.  But  when  the  trespassing  shep- 
herd happened  to  be  caught  poaching,  he  got  a 
whipping.  And  yet,  strictly  speaking,  it  was 
not  stealing;  it  was  a  mere  usage.  The  land- 
owners seemed  to  have  agreed  beforehand: 
"If  you  happen  to  catch  my  shepherd  poach- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  69 

ing,  you  may  whip  him,  provided  you  do  not 
object  if  I  give  a  whipping  to  your  shepherd 
on  a  similar  occasion."  In  spite  of  all  this  I 
rather  liked  "  going  out  for  the  night."  I  loved 
those  nights  in  the  open  field.  When  the  moon 
gave  but  little  light,  and  one  could  see  but  a 
few  steps  away,  I  forgot  my  immediate  sur- 
roundings, and  my  imagination  was  free!  I 
would  peer  into  the  open  sky,  would  bring  be- 
fore my  mind's  eye  father  and  mother  and  all 
who  were  dear  to  me,  and  would  feel  near  to 
them ;  for  the  sky  that  spread  over  all  of  us  was 
the  very  same.  I  could  imagine  my  father  cele- 
brating the  new  moon  with  a  prayer.  I  could 
imagine  my  mother  watching  for  the  same  star 
I  was  looking  at;  I  could  imagine  that  we  were 
really  looking  at  the  same  spot.  .  .  .  Then 
tears  would  come  into  my  eyes.  My  mother,  I 
would  think,  was  crying,  too.  And  the  night 
listened  to  me,  and  the  stars  listened  to  me. . . . 


70  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

The  crickets  chirped,  and  if  I  chose,  I  could 
believe  they  shared  my  sorrows  with  me,  and 
were  sighing  over  my  fate.  .  .  . 

Idle  fancy,  nonsense,  you  think;  but  when 
one  has  nothing  real  to  look  up  to,  dreams  are 
very  sweet.  A  light  breeze  would  steal  over 
me,  refresh  me,  and  bring  me  new  hope;  and 
I  trusted  I  should  not  be  a  prisoner  always, 
the  day  of  my  release  would  surely  come.  At 
such  happy  moments  I  would  fall  asleep  gazing 
at  the  stars.  And  if  the  sudden  whip  of  the 
landowner  did  not  put  an  end  to  my  dreams,  I 
would  dream  away,  and  see  things  no  language 
could  describe. 

Well,  I  took  the  bag  and  led  the  horses  out 
into  the  open  field.  But  that  time,  out  of  sheer 
spite  or  for  some  other  reason,  I  did  not  go 
into  our  neighbor's  field,  but  descended  right 
into  the  valley  that  my  patron  had  left  lying 
fallow,  and  stretched  myself  upon  the  soft  grass 
of  the  hospitable  turf. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  71 

That  night  I  longed  to  bring  father  and 
mother  before  my  mind's  eye  and  have  an 
imaginary  talk  with  them.  But  I  did  not  suc- 
ceed. Instead,  the  figure  of  the  old  rabbi 
hovered  before  my  eyes.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
he  was  looking  at  me  angrily,  and  telling  me 
the  story  of  Joseph  the  righteous :  how  he  lived 
in  the  house  of  Potiphar,  and  ate  nothing  but 
vegetables. 

But  when  I  reminded  myself  of  Joseph  the 
righteous,  I  felt  my  heart  sink  at  the  thought  of 
what  Marusya  had  done  to  me.  I  could  not 
deny  that  the  good  looks  of  the  Gentile  girl 
were  endearing  her  to  me,  that  out  of  her  hands 
I  would  eat  pork  ten  times  a  day,  and  that  in 
fact  I  myself  was  trying  to  put  up  a  defense  of 
her.  I  took  all  the  responsibility  on  myself.  I 
was  ready  to  believe  that  she  did  not  seek  my 
company,  but  that  it  was  I  who  called  her  to 
myself.  I  was  a  sinner  in  my  own  estimation, 


72  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

and  I  could  not  even  cry.  Then  it  seemed  to 
me  that  the  sky  was  much  darker  than  usual, 
and  the  stars  did  not  shine  at  all.  With  such 
thoughts  in  my  mind  I  fell  asleep. 

I  awoke  at  the  sound  of  voices.  Some  one  is 
crying,  I  thought.  The  sound  seemed  near 
enough.  It  rose  and  rose  and  filled  the  valley. 
It  made  me  shudder.  The  soft,  plaintive  chant 
swelled  and  grew  louder,  as  if  addressed  to  me. 
It  gripped  my  very  heart.  I  stood  up  all  in  a 
shiver,  and  started  to  walk  in  the  direction  of 
the  sound.  But  around  me,  up  and  down,  on 
every  side,  was  total  darkness.  The  moon  had 
set  long  ago.  I  moved  away  only  a  few  steps 
from  the  horses,  and  could  not  make  them  out 
any  more.  By  and  by  I  could  distinguish  some 
words,  and  I  recognized  the  heart-gripping 
chant  of  a  Hebrew  Psalm.  .  .  . 
"  For  the  Lord  knoweth  the  path  of  the 

righteous, 
And  the  path  of  the  wicked  shall  perish.  "... 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  73 

My  fears  vanished,  and  gave  place  to  a  feel- 
ing of  surprise. 

"  Where   can   that   chanting   come   from," 
thought  I,  "  and  here  in  exile,  too?  " 

Then  I  began  to  doubt  it  all,  thinking  it  was 
but  a  dream. 

"  Why  do  the  nations  rage, 
And  the  peoples  imagine  a  vain  thing?  " 

The  voices  were  drawing  me  forward  irresist- 
ibly, and  I  decided  to  join  the  chorus,  come 
what  might.     And  I  continued  the  Psalm  in  a 
Joud  voice : 
"  The  kings  of  the  earth  stood  up  .  .  .  .  ' 

The  chanting  ceased ;  I  heard  steps  approach- 
ing me. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  a  voice,  in  Yiddish. 

"  It  is  I,'*  answered  I,  "  and  who  are  you?  " 

"  It  is  we !  "  shouted  many  voices  in  chorus. 

"Cantonists?" 

"A  Cantonist,  too?" 


74  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Thus  exchanging  questions,  we  met.  They 
turned  out  to  be  three  Cantonists,  who  lived  in  a 
village  at  some  distance  from  Peter's  house.  I 
had  never  met  them  before.  They,  too,  had 
"  gone  out  for  the  night,"  and  we  had  happened 
to  use  the  same  valley. 

I  love  to  mention  their  names.  The  oldest 
of  them  was  Jacob,  whom  you  remember  from 
the  punishment  he  underwent.  The  others 
were  Simeon  and  Reuben.  But  there  in  the 
valley  they  introduced  themselves  to  me  with 
the  names  they  were  called  by  at  home :  Yekil, 
Shimele,  and  Ruvek.  I  found  out  later  that 
the  valley  was  their  meeting-place.  It  was  a 
sort  of  Klaus,  "  Rabbi  Yekil's  Klaus  "  the  boys 
called  it.  Yekil  was  a  boy  of  about  fifteen,  who 
was  well-equipped  with  knowledge  of  the 
Torah  when  he  was  taken  away  from  his  home. 

In  the  long  years  of  our  exile  we  had  forgot- 
ten the  Jewish  calendar  completely.  But  Yekil 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  75 

prided  himself  on  being  able  to  distinguish  the 
days  "  by  their  color  and  smell,"  especially 
Fridays;  and  his  friends  confirmed  his  state- 
ments. He  used  to  boast  that  he  could  keep 
track  of  every  day  of  the  year,  and  never  miss 
a  single  day  of  the  Jewish  holidays.  Every 
Jewish  holiday  they'met  in  the  valley  on  Peter's 
estate.  According  to  Yekil's  calendar,  the  eve 
•of  the  Fast  of  the  Ninth  of  Av  fell  on  that  very 
day.  That  is  why  they  had  gathered  in  the 
valley  that  night.  "  If  so,"  said  I,  "  what  is 
the  use  of  reciting  that  Psalm?  Were  it  not 
more  proper  to  recite  Lamentations?  " 

"  We  do  not  know  Lamentations  by  heart," 
explained  Yekil,  with  the  authority  of  a  rabbi, 
"  but  we  do  know  some  Psalms,  and  these  we 
recite  on  every  holiday.  For,  at  bottom,  are 
mere  words  the  main  thing?  Your  real  prayer 
is  not  what  you  say  with  your  lips,  but  what 
you  feel  with  the  whole  of  your  heart.  As  long 


76  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

as  the  words  are  in  the  holy  tongue,  it  all  de- 
pends on  the  feelings  you  wish  to  put  into  them. 
As  my  father,  may  he  rest  in  peace,  used  to  in- 
struct me,  the  second  Psalm  is  the  same  as  the 
festival  hymn,  *  Thou  hast  chosen  us  from 
among  the  nations,'  if  you  feel  that  way;  or  it 
may  be  the  same  as  Lamentations.  It  all  de- 
pends on  the  feelings  in  our  heart,  and  on  the 
meaning  we  wish  to  put  into  the  words !  " 

Yekil's  talk  and  the  sounds  of  Yiddish  speech, 
which  I  had  not  heard  since  I  left  home,  im- 
pressed me  in  a  wonderful  way.  Here  I  found 
myself  all  at  once  in  the  company  of  Jews  like 
father  and  mother.  But  I  felt  very  much  below 
that  wonderful  boy  who  could  decide  questions 
of  Jewish  law  like  some  great  rabbi.  Indeed, 
he  seemed  to  me  little  short  of  a  rabbi  in  our 
small  congregation.  Then  I  began  to  feel  more 
despondent  than  ever.  I  considered  myself  the 
sinner  of  our  little  community.  I  knew  I  was 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  77 

guilty  of  eating  pork  and  of  other  grave  tres- 
passes, and  I  felt  quite  unworthy  of  being  a 
member  of  the  pious  congregation. 

Meanwhile  little  Reuben  discovered  the  con- 
tents of  my  bag. 

"  Boys,  grub !  "  exclaimed  he,  excitedly.  At 
the  word  "  grub  "  the  congregation  was  thrown 
into  a  flutter.  That  was  the  way  of  the  Can- 
tonists.  They  could  not  help  getting  excited 
at  the  sight  of  any  article  of  food,  even  when 
they  were  not  hungry  at  all.  In  the  long  run 
our  patrons  fed  us  well  enough,  and  on  the 
whole  we  could  not  complain  of  lack  of  food. 
But  we  were  fed  according  to  the  calculations 
of  our  patrons,  and  not  according  to  our  own 
appetites.  So  it  became  our  habit  to  eat  when- 
ever victuals  were  put  before  us,  even  on  a  full 
stomach.  "  Eat  whenever  you  have  something 
to  eat,  so  as  not  to  go  hungry  when  there  may 
be  no  rations."  That  was  a  standing  rule 
6 


78  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

among  the  Cantonists.  They  began  fumbling 
in  my  bag,  and  I  was  dying  with  shame  at  the 
thought  that  soon  they  would  discover  the 
piece  of  pork,  and  that  my  sin  would  become 
known  to  the  pious  congregation.  Then  I 
broke  down,  and  with  tears  began  to  confess 
my  sins. 

"  I  have  sinned,"  said  I,  sobbing,  "  it  is  pork. 
I  could  not  withstand  the  temptation." 

At  that  moment  it  seemed  to  me  that  Yekil 
was  the  judge,  and  the  boys  who  had  found  the 
pork  were  the  witnesses  against  me.  Yekil  list- 
ened to  my  partial  confession,  and  the  two  "  wit- 
nesses "  hung  their  heads,  and  hid  their  faces 
in  shame,  as  if  they  were  the  accused.  But  I 
sobbed  and  cried  bitterly. 

"  Now,  listen,  little  one,"  Yekil  turned  to 
me.  "  I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  suffered 
the  horrors  of  hell  that  we  have  suffered.  Did 
they  paint  your  body  with  tar,  and  put  you  up 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  79 

on  the  highest  shelf  in  the  steam-bath,  and 
choke  you  with  burning  steam?  Did  they  flog 
you  with  birch-rods  for  having  been  caught 
mumbling  a  Hebrew  prayer?  Did  they  make 
you  kneel  for  hours  on  sharp  stones  for  having 
refused  to  kiss  the  ikon  and  the  crucifix?  Did 
they  discover  you  secretly  kissing  the  Arba- 
Kanfos,  and  give  you  as  many  lashes  as  there 
are  threads  in  the  Tzitzis?  If  you  have  not 
passed  through  all  that,  uncover  our  backs,  and 
count  the  welts  that  still  mark  them !  And  to 
this  you  must  add  the  number  of  blows  I  have 
still  to  get,  simply  because  my  little  body  could 
not  take  in  at  once  all  it  was  expected  to  take  in. 
And  yet,  not  a  day  passed  without  our  having 
recited  our  Modeh-Ani.  As  to  eating  pork,  we 
abstained  from  it  in  spite  of  the  rods.  Then 
they  gave  up  flogging  us;  but,  instead  of  that 
punishment,  they  gave  us  nothing  but  pork  to 
eat.  Two  days  we  held  out ;  we  did  not  touch 


8o  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

any  food.  We  did  not  get  even  a  drink  of 
water.  Do  you  see  little  Simeon?  Well,  he 
tried  to  eat  the  grass  in  the  courtyard.  .  .  . 
On  the  third  day  of  our  fast  I  saw  my  father  in 
my  dream.  He  was  dressed  in  his  holiday 
clothes,  and  holding  the  Bible  in  his  hands  he 
quoted  the  passage,  '  Be  ye  mindful  of  your 
lives.'  Suddenly,  the  earth  burst  open,  and 
the  Angel  of  Death  appeared.  He  had  rods 
in  one  hand  and  a  piece  of  swine's  flesh  in  the 
other.  He  put  the  piece  of  pork  into  my  mouth. 
I  looked  up,  terror-stricken,  to  my  father,  but 
he  smiled.  His  smile  filled  the  place  with  light. 
He  said  to  me,  '  Eatest  thou  this  of  thy  own 
free  will?  '  Then  he  began  to  soar  upwards, 
and  called  out  to  me  from  afar:  *  Tell  all  thy 
comrades,  the  Cantonists:  Your  reward  is 
great.  Every  sigh  of  yours  is  a  prayer,  every 
good  thought  of  yours  is  a  good  action !  Only 
beware,  lest  you  die  of  hunger;  then  surely 
you  will  merit  eternal  punishment !  * 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  81 

"  I  awoke.  Since  then  we  eat  all  kinds  of 
forbidden  food.  The  main  thing  is  that  we 
have  remained  Jews,  and  that  as  Jews  we  shall 
return  home  to  our  parents.  It  is  clear  to  me 
now  that  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  He,  will  not 
consider  all  that  a  sin  on  our  part  I  " 

I  felt  as  if  a  heavy  load  had  been  taken  off 
my  shoulders.  My  eyes  began  to  flow  with 
tears  of  gladness.  Then,  having  once  started 
my  confession,  I  decided  to  confess  to  my  second 
sin  also.  Meanwhile  Simeon  had  pulled  the 
bread  and  the  meat  out  of  my  bag. 

"  Glutton ! "  exclaimed  Yekil,  angrily. 
"  Have  you  forgotten  that  it  is  the  night  of  the 
Fast  of  the  Ninth  of  Av?  " 

The  boy,  abashed,  returned  the  things  to  the 
bag,  and  moved  away  a  few  steps.  Then  I  told 
Yekii  all  that  had  passed  between  me  and 
Marusya,  and  tried  unconsciously  to  defend  her 
in  every  way.  I  think  I  exaggerated  a  good 


82  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

deal  when  I  tried  to  show  that  Marusya  liked 
the  Jews  very  much,  indeed. 

"  And  what  was  the  end  of  it?  "  asked  Yekil, 
with  some  fear.  "  Did  she  really  kiss  you?  " 
The  other  boys  echoed  the  question.  I  looked 
down,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Is  she  good-looking?  " 

I  still  gave  no  answer. 

"  I  have  forgotten  your  name.    What  is  it?  " 

"  Samuel." 

"  Now  listen,  Samuel,  this  is  a  very  serious 
affair.  It  is  much  worse  than  what  is  told  of 
Joseph  the  righteous.  Do  you  understand?  I 
do  not  really  know  how  to  make  it  clear  to  you. 
It  is  very  dangerous  to  find  good  and  true 
friends  right  here  in  exile,  in  the  very  ranks  of 
our  enemies." 

"  Why?  "  wondered  I. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  but  this  is  how  I  feel. 
Insulted  and  outraged  we  have  been  brought 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  83 

here;  insulted  and  outraged  we  should  depart 
from  here.  Ours  is  the  right  of  the  oppressed; 
and  that  right  we  must  cherish  till  we  return 
home." 

"  I  do  not  understand!  " 

Jacob  looked  at  me  sharply,  and  said: 
"  Well,  I  have  warned  you;  keep  away  from 
her." 

His  words  entered  into  the  depths  of  my 
heart.  I  bowed  my  head  before  Yekil,  and 
submitted  to  his  authority.  That  was  the  way 
we  all  felt:  Yekil  had  only  to  look  at  us  to 
subject  us  to  his  will.  It  was  hard  to  resist  him. 

I  felt  a  great  change  in  myself :  I  had  been 
relieved  of  the  weight  of  two  sins.  Of  one  I 
had  been  absolved  completely,  and  the  other 
I  had  confessed  in  public  and  repented  of.  I 
gladly  joined  the  little  congregation,  and  we 
returned  to  our  Psalms,  which  we  recited  in- 
stead of  Lamentations.  At  the  conclusion  I 


84  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

proposed  that  we  chant  the  Psalm  "  By  the 
rivers  of  Babylon,"  which  we  all  knew  by  heart. 

And  we,  a  congregation  of  four  little  Jews, 
stood  up  in  the  valley  on  the  estate  of  Peter 
Khlopov,  concealed  by  steep  hills  and  by  the 
darkness  of  the  night:  thieves  for  the  benefit 
of  our  masters,  and  mourners  of  Zion  on  our 
own  account.  .  .  .  And  we  chanted  out  of  the 
very  depths  of  our  hearts : 

"  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  there  we  sat  and 
wept,  remembering  Zion."  .  .  . 

We  chanted  the  whole  of  it,  sat  down  and 
wept,  remembering  at  the  same  time  all  we  had 
gone  through  ourselves,  and  also  the  position 
we  were  in  at  that  time. — 

Here  old  Samuel  shuddered  and  stopped 
abruptly.  The  sun  had  set,  and  he  reminded 
himself  that  he  had  forgotten  to  say  his  after- 
noon prayer.  He  jumped  down  hastily,  washed 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  85 

his  hands  in  a  near-by  pool,  returned  to  his 
seat,  and  became  absorbed  in  his  devotions. 

VI 

By  and  by  the  streaks  of  light  disappeared 
in  the  twilight  sky,  and  the  wintry  night  threw 
the  mantle  of  thick  and  misty  blackness  over  us. 

Presently  I  heard  the  old  man  conclude  his 
prayer:  "When  the  world  will  be  reclaimed 
through  the  kingship  of  the  Almighty;  when 
all  mortals  will  acknowledge  Thy  name.  .  .  . 
on  that  day  the  Lord  will  be  One,  and  His  name 
will  be  One!" 

Out  of  the  darkness  came  the  devout  words ; 
they  seemed  to  take  wing,  as  though  to  pierce 
the  shrouding  mist  and  scatter  it;  but  they 
themselves  were  finally  dissolved  in  the  tri- 
umphant blackness.  .  .  . 

I  did  not  have  to  urge  the  old  man  to  con- 
tinue his  tale.  His  prayers  over,  he  picked  up 


86  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

the  thread  of  his  narrative,  as  if  something  were 
driving  him  to  give  a  full  account  of  what  he 
had  passed  through. — 

The  day  I  became  acquainted  with  Jacob — 
continued  the  old  man — I  consider  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  period  in  my  life.  I  became 
accustomed  to  consider  him  my  superior,  whose 
behavior  had  to  be  taken  as  an  example.  Jacob 
spoke  as  an  authority  whenever  he  did  speak, 
and  he  never  wavered  in  his  decisions.  When- 
ever he  happened  to  be  in  doubt,  his  father 
would  "  instruct "  him  in  his  dreams.  Thus 
we  lived  according  to  Jacob's  decisions  and 
dreams.  I  got  used  to  eating  forbidden  food, 
to  breaking  the  Sabbath,  and  trespassing  against 
all  the  ordinances  of  the  ritual  without  com- 
punction. And  yet  Jacob  used  to  preach  to  us, 
to  bear  floggings  and  all  kinds  of  punishments 
rather  than  turn  traitor  to  our  faith.  So  I 
got  the  notion  that  our  faith  is  neither  prayers, 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  87 

nor  a  collection  of  ordinances  of  varying  im- 
portance, but  something  I  could  not  name,  nor 
point  to  with  my  finger.  Jacob,  I  thought,  cer- 
tainly knows  all  about  it;  but  I  do  not.  All  I 
could  do  was  to  feel  it ;  so  could  Anna.  Other- 
wise she  would  not  have  called  me  Zhid,  and 
would  not  have  hated  me  so  much,  in  spite  of 
seeing  me  break  all  the  ordinances  of  the  Jewish 
ritual. 

At  times  I  thought  that  I  and  my  comrades 
were  captains  in  God's  army,  that  all  His  ordi- 
nances were  not  meant  for  us,  but  for  the  plain 
soldiers  of  the  line.  They,  the  rank  and  file, 
must  be  subjected  to  discipline,  must  know  how 
to  submit  to  authority;  all  of  which  does  not 
apply  to  the  commanding  officers.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  this  was  what  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be 
He,  had  deigned  to  reveal  to  us  through  the 
dreams  of  Jacob :  there  is  another  religion  for 
you,  the  elect.  You  will  surely  know  what  is 
forbidden,  and  what  is  permitted.  .  .  . 


88  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Sometimes,  again,  I  imagined  that  I  might 
best  prove  true  to  my  faith  if  I  set  my  heart 
against  the  temptation  that  Satan  had  put  be- 
fore me  in  the  person  of  Marusya.  If  I  turned 
away  from  her,  I  thought,  I  might  at  once  gain 
my  share  in  the  future  world.  So  I  armed 
myself  against  Marusya's  influence  in  every  pos- 
sible way.  I  firmly  resolved  to  throw  back  at 
her  any  food  she  might  offer  me.  If  she  laid 
her  hand  on  me,  I  would  push  it  away  from 
me,  and  tell  her  plainly  that  I  was  a  Jew,  and 
she — a  nobody. 

So  I  fought  with  her  shadow,  and,  indeed, 
got  the  best  of  it  as  long  as  she  herself  was 
away.  But  the  moment  she  appeared,  all  my 
weapons  became  useless.  She  made  me  feel 
like  one  drunk.  I  could  not  withstand  the  wild- 
fire of  her  eye,  nor  the  charm  of  her  merry  talk, 
nor  the  wonderful  attraction  of  her  whole  per- 
son. At  the  same  time  there  was  not  a  trace 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  89 

of  deviltry  about  her:  it  was  simply  an  attrac- 
tion which  I  could  not  resist.  And  when  she 
laid  her  soft  hand  on  me,  I  bent  under  it,  and 
gave  myself  up  entirely.  And  she  did  what 
she  wanted:  where  buttons  were  missing,  she 
sewed  them  on ;  and  where  a  patch  was  needed, 
she  put  it  in.  She  was  a  little  mother  to  me. 
She  used  to  bring  me  all  kinds  of  delicacies  and 
order  me  to  eat  them ;  and  I  could  not  disobey 
her.  In  short,  she  made  me  forget  Jacob  and 
his  teachings.  But  the  moment  I  met  Jacob  I 
forgot  Marusya's  charms,  and  reminded  my- 
self that  it  was  sinful  to  accept  favors  in  exile. 
Then  I  would  repent  of  my  past  actions  from 
the  very  depths  of  my  heart — till  I  again  was 
face  to  face  with  Marusya.  I  was  between  the 
hammer  and  the  anvil. 

My  meetings  with  Jacob  were  regular  and 
frequent.  After  what  according  to  Jacob's 
calendar  was  the  Ninth  of  Av,  we  met  nightly 


90  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

in  the  valley  on  Peter's  estate,  till  a  disagree- 
ment broke  out  among  us.  I  would  not  permit 
the  cattle  of  the  whole  neighborhood  to  browse 
on  the  estate  of  my  patron,  and  Simeon  and 
Reuben  would  not  agree  to  let  my  patron's 
horses  be  brought  to  the  meadows  of  their 
patrons.  Our  congregation  nearly  broke  up. 
But  here  Jacob  intervened  with  his  expert  de- 
cision. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  "  you  must  know  that  *  go- 
ing out  for  the  night '  is  really  a  form  of  steal- 
ing. True,  we  do  not  steal  for  our  own  benefit. 
Yet,  as  long  as  we  have  a  hand  in  it,  we  must 
manage  it  in  a  fair  way.  So  let  us  figure  out 
how  many  horses  every  one  of  our  patrons 
possesses.  And  let  us  arrange  the  nights 
according  to  the  number  of  horses  each  of  the 
patrons  has.  According  to  this  calculation  we 
shall  change  places.  We  shall  spend  more 
nights  in  the  meadows  of  those  who  have  more 
horses.  That  will  make  '  fair  stealing.'  " 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  91 

This  plan  of  Jacob  was  accepted,  not  as  a 
proposition,  but  as  an  order.  Since  that  time 
we  began  to  "  steal  with  justice."  And  our 
patrons  slept  peacefully,  delighted  with  their 
unpunished  thievery,  till  a  Gentile  boy,  one 
Serge  Ivanovich,  joined  us  on  one  of  his  own 
"  nights."  He  was  the  son  of  the  village  elder, 
and  a  cousin  of  Peter  Khlopov.  He  was  com- 
pelled to  obey  Jacob,  but  the  next  morning  he 
blabbed  about  it  all  over  the  village. 

Of  course,  our  patrons  were  angry.  Jacob 
took  the  whole  blame  on  himself,  and  suffered 
punishment  for  all  of  us.  Then  "  Jacob's 
Klaus  "  was  closed,  because  our  patrons  gave 
up  sending  us  out  "  for  the  night." 

Well,  if  you  please,  their  dissatisfaction  was 
not  entirely  groundless :  they  found  themselves 
fooled  by  us,  and  cheated  in  a  way.  For  every 
one  of  them  had  been  thinking  that  his  horse 
would  bring  him  some  profit  every  night,  equal 


92  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

to  the  value  of  a  horse's  browsing.  Seven 
nights,  seven  times  that  profit;  thirty  nights, 
thirty  times  that  profit.  .  .  .  All  at  once  these 
"profits"  had  vanished:  it  turned  out  that 
every  horse  had  been  browsing  at  the  expense  of 
his  own  master;  so  the  expected  profits  became 
a  total  loss.  Of  course,  stealing  is  stealing.  But 
then,  they  argued,  had  the  Zhid  youngsters  any 
right  to  meddle  with  their  affairs?  Was  it  their 
property  that  was  being  stolen?  As  one  of  my 
Gentile  acquaintances  told  me  once :  '  The 
trouble  with  the  Jews  is  that  they  are  always 
pushing  themselves  in  where  they  are  not 
wanted  at  all." 

Indeed,  it  was  this  fault  of  ours  that  Serge 
kept  pointing  out  to  me  and  berating  us  for. 
Well,  Jacob's  Klaus  had  been  closed.  But  we 
managed  to  get  together  in  different  places. 
Once  in  a  while  we  came  to  see  one  another  at 
our  patrons'  houses,  and  they  did  not  object. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  93 

I  do  not  know  who  told  Marusya  what  kind 
of  a  chap  Jacob  was,  and  what  he  thought  of 
her;  but  she  hated  him  from  the  moment  she 
first  saw  him,  when  he  came  to  visit  me. 

"  He  is  a  real  savage,"  she  would  say.  "  I 
never  saw  such  a  Jew.  I  am  simply  afraid  of 
him.  I  am  afraid  of  those  wild  eyes  of  his.  I 
detest  him,  anyway."  That  is  what  she  used 
to  tell  me. 

Whenever  Jacob  came  to  see  me,  and 
Marusya  happened  to  be  in  the  room,  she 
would  walk  out  immediately,  and  would  not 
return  before  he  was  out  of  the  house.  I  rather 
liked  it.  I  could  not  be  giving  in  to  both  of 
them  at  the  same  time. 

Such  were  the  surroundings  that  shaped  my 
life  during  those  days.  Peter  befriended  me ; 
but  Anna  kept  on  worrying  me  and  making  me 
miserable.  Marusya  loved  me  as  a  sister  loves 
a  brother,  and  the  fire  of  her  eyes  ate  into  my 
7 


94  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

heart.  Jacob  kept  preaching  to  me  that  it  was 
wrong  to  accept  favors  from  Gentiles,  and  that 
we  had  to  fight  for  our  faith.  Serge  became 
my  bitter  enemy  from  the  time  he  betrayed  our 
scheme  of  "  honest  stealing." 

To  top  it  all,  my  sergeant  tried  to  put  me 
through  the  paces  of  the  military  drill,  and 
succeeded. 

But  my  own  self  seemed  to  have  been  totally 
forgotten  and  left  out  of  the  account. 

By  and  by  the  summer  passed,  and  most  of 
the  following  winter ;  and  in  the  Khlopov  house- 
hold preparations  were  made  for  some  holiday, 
I  forget  which.  Those  days  of  preparation 
were  our  most  miserable  days  in  exile.  When 
Anna  was  busy  on  the  eve  of  a  holiday,  I  could 
not  help  remembering  our  own  Sabbath  eves  at 
home,  the  Sabbath  days  in  the  Klaus,  as  well  as 
the  other  holidays,  and  all  the  things  that  are 
so  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  Jewish  boy.  That 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  95 

was  the  time  when  I  felt  especially  lonely  and 
homesick;  it  was  as  though  a  fever  were  burn- 
ing within  me.  Then  neither  tears  nor  even 
Marusya's  company  did  me  any  good.  I  felt 
as  if  red-hot  coals  had  been  packed  up  right 
here  in  my  breast.  Did  you  ever  feel  that  way  ? 
I  felt  like  rolling  on  the  ground  and  pressing 
my  chest  against  something  hard.  I  felt  I  was 
going  mad.  I  felt  like  jumping,  crying,  sing- 
ing, and  fighting  all  at  once.  I  felt  as  if  even 
lashes  would  be  welcome,  simply  to  get  rid  of 
that  horrible  heartache. 

On  that  particular  day  Khlopov  was  late  in 
coming  home.  Marusya  remarked  that  she 
had  seen  her  father  enter  the  tavern.  Then 
Anna  began  to  curse  "  our  Moshko,"  the 
tavern  keeper.  Marusya  objected: 

"  Tut,  tut,  mother,  is  it  any  of  Moshko's 
fault?  Does  he  compel  papa  to  go  there ?  Does 
he  compel  him  to  drink?  " 


96  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Then  Anna  flew  into  a  temper,  and  poured 
out  a  torrent  of  curses  and  insults  on  Marusya. 
I  don't  know  what  happened  to  me  then.  My 
blood  was  up;  my  fists  tightened.  It  -was  a 
dangerous  moment;  I  was  ready  to  pounce  upon 
Anna.  I  did  not  know  that  Marusya  had  been 
watching  me  all  the  while  from  behind,  and 
understood  all  that  was  passing  within  me. 
Presently  the  door  opened,  and  Khlopov 
entered,  rather  tipsy,  hopping  and  jigging. 
That  was  his  way  when  in  his  cups.  When  he 
was  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  his  soul 
seemed  to  spread  beyond  its  usual  limits  and 
light  up  his  face  with  smiles.  At  such  moments 
he  would  he  ready  to  hug,  to  kiss,  or  to  cry; 
or  else  to  curse,  to  fight,  and  to  laugh  at  the 
same  time. 

Right  here  you  can  see  the  difference  between 
the  Jew  and  the  Gentile.  The  finer  soul  of  the 
Jew  may  contract  and  settle  on  the  very  point 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  97 

of  his  nose.  But  the  grosser  soul  of  the  Gentile 
needs,  as  it  were,  more  space  to  spread  over. 
This,  I  believe,  is  why  Khlopov  never  failed  to 
get  a  clean  shave  on  the  eve  of  every  holiday. 

As  soon  as  Khlopov  had  entered  the  room, 
he  began  to  play  with  me  and  Marusya.  He 
gave  us  candy,  and  insisted  on  dancing  a  jig 
with  us. 

Anna  met  him  with  a  frown :  "  Drunk 
again  ?  "  But  this  time  her  eyes  seemed  to  have 
no  power  over  Khlopov.  He  could  not  stand  it 
any  longer,  and  gave  tit  for  tat.  "  Zhidovka  I  " 
he  shouted.  I  looked  at  Anna :  she  turned  red. 
Marusya  blushed.  Khlopov  sobered  up,  and  his 
soul  shrank  to  its  usual  size.  Anna  went  to  her 
room.  The  spell  was  broken. 

The  word  "  Zhidovka "  hurled  at  Anna 
made  me  start  back.  What  could  it  mean, 
I  wondered.  I  felt  sorry  for  Khlopov,  for 
Marusyaj  for  Anna,  and  for  the  holiday  mood 


98  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

that  had  been  spoilt  by  a  single  word.  And  it 
seemed  to  me  it  was  my  fault  to  some  extent. 
Who,  I  thought,  had  anything  in  common  with 
Zhidovka  if  not  myself  ?  Or  was  it  Khlopov  ? — 

Here  the  old  man  was  interrupted  by  the 
neighing  of  the  horses. 

The  forward  horse  seemed  to  be  getting 
proud  of  the  comparative  freedom  he  enjoyed, 
and  bit  his  neighbor,  only  to  remind  him  of  it. 
The  latter,  unable  to  turn  around  in  the  harness, 
resented  the  insult  by  kicking.  But  then  the 
driver  plied  his  whip,  and  there  was  peace 
again. 

"  Would  you  take  the  trouble  to  dismount? 
Just  walk  up  that  hill :  it  will  do  you  good  to 
warm  yourselves  up  a  little  after  sitting  so  long 
in  one  place." 

That  was  the  driver's  suggestion;  and  as 
no  one  refuses  obedience  to  drivers  on  the  road, 
we  dismounted. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  99 

VII 

The  next  day — resumed  the  old  man — the 
situation  became  a  little  clearer  to  me.  Ma- 
rusya  told  me  that  according  to  the  gossip  of 
the  village  her  mother  was  a  converted  Jewess. 
She,  Marusya,  was  not  so  sure  of  it.  Her 
father  would  call  her  mother  a  Jewess  once  in 
a  while,  but  that  happened  only  when  he  was 
drunk.  So  she  did  not  know  whether  he  merely 
repeated  the  village  gossip,  or  had  his  own 
information  in  the  matter.  And  when  she  asked 
her  mother,  the  latter  would  fly  into  a  temper. 

"  Papa  himself,"  said  Marusya,  "  likes 
Jews;  but  mother  hates  them.  I  like  papa 
more  than  mamma;  I  also  like  Jews;  I  often 
play  with  Moshko's  girls  when  mother  is  not 
around.  I  do  not  understand  why  mother  dis- 
likes the  Jews  so  much." 

Then  Marusya  insisted  I  should  tell  her  the 
real  truth  about  the  Jews,  as  they  are  at  home : 


ioo  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

were  they  like  myself,  or  like  Jacob,  the  wild 
one?  But  I  stopped  listening  to  her  chatter, 
and  began  to  think  of  what  she  had  told  me 
about  her  mother.  For  in  case  it  was  true  that 
Anna  was  a  convert,  then — why,  then  Marusya 
herself  was  half  a  Jewess.  I  decided  to  solve 
the  mystery.  ' 

Now  let  me  tell  you  that  as  a  result  of  our 
Cantonist  training  we  were  not  only  as  bold 
as  eagles,  as  courageous  as  lions,  as  swift  as  the 
deer  in  doing  the  will  of  our  patrons,  but  also 
as  sly  as  foxes  in  finding  a  way  out  of  a  difficulty. 
And,  by  the  way,  that  was  also  the  opinion  of 
our  late  commander,  Colonel  Pavel  Akimovich. 
A  keen-eyed  commander  and  a  kind-hearted 
master  was  he,  may  his  lot  be  in  Paradise  among 
the  godly  men  of  the  Gentile  tribes.  Yes,  if  he 
was  an  eagle,  we  were  his  chicks;  if  he  was  a 
lion,  we  were  his  whelps!  This  is  what  he 
used  to  say:  "  In  time  of  need,  you  have  no 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  101 

better  soldier  than  the  Jew.  But  then  you 
must  know  how  to  use  him.  Do  not  give  him 
too  many  instructions,  and  do  not  try  to  explain 
it  all  to  him  from  beginning  to  end.  If  you  in- 
struct him  too  much,  he  will  be  afraid  to  do  any 
scheming  on  his  own  hook,  and  you  will  be  the 
loser.  Just  give  him  your  order,  and  tell  him 
what  the  order  is  for.  Then  you  may  be  sure 
he  will  get  it  for  you,  even  if  he  should  have  to 
go  to  hell  for  it !  "  This  is  what  Colonel  Pavel 
Akimovich  used  to  say  of  us. 

Now,  once  I  decided  to  find  out  Anna's  secret, 
I  thought  it  all  out  beforehand,  as  a  Cantonist 
should ;  and  I  hit  upon  a  plan. 

That  was  at  the  beginning  of  spring.  One 
day  Khlopov  left  on  a  journey  to  the  neighbor- 
ing villages  to  collect  the  taxes.  He  had  to 
stay  away  some  time.  The  whole  of  that  day 
Anna  kept  worrying  me  as  usual.  She  sent  me 
on  unnecessary  errands,  she  wanted  me  to  be 


102  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

in  two  places  at  the  same  time.  She  yelled,  she 
cursed,  she  shook  me,  and  mauled  me,  she  pulled 
me  by  the  ears.  She  knew  well  how  to  make 
one  miserable.  When  night  came,  I  went  to 
sleep  in  the  anteroom;  that  was  my  bedroom. 
Anna  was  abed,  but  not  asleep.  Marusya  had 
long  been  asleep.  Then  Anna  remembered 
that  she  had  forgotten  to  close  the  door  leading 
to  the  anteroom,  and  she  ordered  me  to  get  up 
and  close  it.  I  made  believe  I  was  sleeping 
soundly,  and  began  to  snore  loudly.  She  kept 
en  calling  me,  but  I  kept  on  snoring.  Suddenly 
I  began  to  cry,  as  if  from  my  sleep:  "O 
mother,  leave  Anna*  alone.  She  too  is  ai 
mother !  Pity  her  family !  " 

Anna  became  silent.  I  half  opened  my  eyes 
and  looked  at  her  through  the  open  door.  A 
candle  was  burning  on  the  table  near  her  bed, 
and  I  could  see  that  she  was  frightened,  and 
was  listening  intently.  Then  I  continued, 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  103 

somewhat  differently:  "  I  beg  of  you,  mother, 
is  it  her  fault?  Doesn't  she  feed  me?  Isn't 
she  a  mother  too?  " 

Then  I  began  to  cry  as  if  in  my  sleep. 
"What?"  I  asked  suddenly,  "Anna?!  Anna 
— a  Jewess  too?!  " 

Then  I  noticed  that  Anna  was  watching 
Marusya's  bed.  I  saw  she  was  afraid  Marusya 
might  overhear  what  was  not  intended  for  her 
ears.  She  put  on  her  night  robe,  came  to  my 
bed,  and  began  in  a  whisper :  "  Are  you  sleep- 
ing? Get  up,  my  boy,  wake  up !  " 

I  did  "  wake  up,"  and  put  on  a  frightened 
appearance.  "  What  did  you  cry  about?  "  she 
asked.  "  I  dreamt  something  terrible." 
"  What  did  you  dream  about?  "  I  kept  silent. 
"  Tell  me,  tell  me !  "  she  insisted.  "  I  saw  my 
mother  in  my  dream."  "  Is  she  alive  yet?  "  I 
told  a  lie.  I  said  my  mother  was  long  dead. 
"  And  what  did  she  tell  you?  "  "  She  said  that 


io4  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

.  .  .  ."  "  Tell  me,  tell  me!  "  "  I  cannot  re- 
peat that  in  Russian."  "  Then  say  it  in  Yid- 
dish." I  looked  with  make-believe  surprise  at 
Anna.  "  She  said:  '  I  shall  come  to  Anna  at 
night  and  choke  her,  if  she  doesn't  give  up  abus- 
ing you.'  '  At  this  Anna  turned  red.  I  con- 
tinued :  "  And  she  said  also,  *  Anna  ought  to 
have  pity  on  Jewish  children,  because  she  is  a 
Jewess  herself.'  "...-. 

My  scheme  worked  well.  Anna  began  to 
treat  me  in  an  entirely  different  way,  and  my 
position  in  the  house  not  only  improved,  but 
became  the  opposite  of  what  it  had  been.  At 
times,  when  no  one  was  around,  she  even  spoke 
Yiddish  to  me.  Apparently  she  liked  to  re- 
main alone  in  the  house  with  me  and  chat  with 
me.  You  must  know,  her  position  in  the 
village  was  all  but  agreeable.  She  had  very 
few  acquaintances;  and  she  would  have  been 
better  off  without  any.  When  she  happened 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  105 

to  have  visitors,  a  mutual  suspicion  at  once 
became  apparent,  in  their  behavior  and  their 
talk.  There  was  much  more  flattery,  much 
more  sweetness  of  speech  than  is  common 
among  people.  One  could  see  that  each  spoke 
only  to  hide  her  innermost  thoughts.  Every 
conversation  ended  as  it  began:  with  gossip 
about  women  who  were  not  zealous  enough  in 
matters  of  church  attendance.  And  when  it 
came  to  that,  Anna  invariably  blushed,  simply 
because  she  was  afraid  she  might  blush.  Then, 
feeling  the  blood  coming  to  her  face,  she  would 
try  to  hide  her  confusion,  and  would  chatter 
away  ceaselessly,  to  show  how  punctual  she  was 
herself  in  church  matters.  On  taking  leave, 
Anna's  friends  would  exchange  significant 
glances,  and  Anna  would  have  been  either  too 
stupid  or  else  too  wise  not  to  notice  the  sting 
of  those  sly  looks. 

As  to  Peter,  he  treated  Anna  fairly  well; 


io6  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

and  when  they  happened  to  quarrel,  it  was 
mostly  her  own  fault.  One  night — it  was  long 
after  I  had  found  out  Anna's  secret — I  hap- 
pened to  be  sleepless,  and  I  overheard  Anna 
talking  angrily  to  Peter.  She  was  scolding 
him  for  having  forgotten  to  prepare  oil  for  the 
lamp  before  the  ikon  of  some  saint.  It  was 
that  saint's  day,  and  Khlopov  had  either  for- 
gotten or  neglected  it.  He  was  very  careless 
in  church  matters,  and  Anna  never  got  tired  of 
taking  him  to  task  for  it.  This  time  she  didn't 
leave  off  nagging  him,  till  he  lost  patience,  and 
said :  "  Were  I  really  as  religious  as  you  want 
me  to  be,  I  should  have  taken  to  wife  a  woman 
who — well,  who  is  a  real  Christian  herself." 
Perhaps  Peter  never  meant  to  insult  Anna  by 
reminding  her  of  that  which  she  wished  to 
forget.  Or  perhaps  Peter  thought  he  had 
offered  a  valid  excuse.  But  Anna  was  offended 
and  turned  around  crying. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  107 

The  trouble  with  Anna  was  that  she  was  very 
sensitive.  That  was  a  trait  of  hers.  When 
she  heard  something  said  about  herself,  she 
never  was  satisfied  with  the  plain  meaning  of 
what  was  said,  but  tried  to  give  the  words  every 
other  possible  meaning.  Every  chance  remark 
she  happened  to  overhear  she  took  to  be  meant 
for  herself.  Well,  this  same  sensitiveness  one 
may  find  in  most  of  the  Cantonists.  For  in- 
stance, in  the  regiment  of  General  Luders,  in 
which  I  served  once,  we  had  many  Tatars,  some 
Karaites,  and  a  goodly  number  of  Jews.  To 
all  appearances  there  was  no  trouble;  but  let 
one  soldier  call  another  "  Antichrist,"  and 
every  Jew  in  the  regiment  would  get  excited. 
The  Tatars  and  the  Karaites  rather  liked  to 
call  their  comrades  Antichrist,  even  if  they  hap- 
pened to  be  Christians.  But  it  was  only  the 
Jews  whom  the  word  set  a-shivering.  It  is  as  I 
tell  you — the  Jew  is  painfully  sensitive.  Well, 


io8  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

to  cut  my  story  short,  Anna  did  not  have  a 
happy  time  of  it.  She  was  all  alone,  surrounded 
though  she  was  by  many  people.  She  became 
taciturn  in  spite  of  herself.  And  this  is  a  great 
misfortune  when  it  happens  with  womenfolk. 
Women  are  naturally  great  talkers,  and  you 
may  do  them  much  harm,  if  you  do  not  give 
them  a  chance  to  talk.  So  I  became  her  crony 
as  soon  as  I  discovered  her  secret.  Then  she 
tried  to  make  up  for  the  many  years  of  silence 
by  chattering  incessantly.  In  her  long  talks  she 
often  said  things  she  had  denied  before.  Once 
she  told  me  that  she  felt  a  longing  to  see  her 
relations  and  townspeople.  But  the  next  time 
she  said  that  she  hated  them  mightily.  Very 
likely  she  did  hate  them.  We  all  dislike  that 
which  has  caused  us  pain  and  harm.  So  Anna 
disliked  her  relations  for  having  caused  her 
remorse,  homesickness,  and  perhaps  shame. 
Once  her  tongue  was  loosed,  she  did  not  stop 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  109 

until  she  had  poured  out  the  proverbial  nine 
measures  given  to  woman  as  her  share  of  the  ten 
measures  of  speech  in  the  world.  She  spoke 
Yiddish  even  in  the  presence  of  Marusya  and 
of  Jacob,  who  used  to  visit  me  once  in  a  while. 
By  and  by  Anna  began  to  treat  him  in  a  very 
friendly  way.  Only  Marusya  avoided  him, 
and  never  spoke  a  word  to  him.  She  simply 
hated  him. 

Thus  in  time  the  house  of  Anna  became  some- 
thing like  a  Jewish  settlement,  or  rather  like 
some  sort  of  a  Klaus,  especially  when  Peter  was 
away  from  home.  We  all  used  to  gather  there, 
and  talk  Yiddish,  just  as  in  a  Klaus.  For  under 
Anna's  roof  we  felt  perfectly  free.  She  be- 
came a  mother  to  the  homeless  Cantonists. 
Even  Marusya  took  to  jabbering  a  little  Yid- 
dish. Jacob  began  to  feel  that  the  leadership 
of  our  little  community  was  passing  into  the 
hands  of  Anna,  and  he  became  jealous.  He 

8 


no         '     IN  THOSE  DAYS 

did  not  see  that  the  very  fact  that  he  too  was 
falling  under  her  spell  was  influencing  our  com- 
munity greatly,  and  that  thus  he  was  stamping 
it  with  his  own  character. 

Anna  liked  him  more  than  she  did  any  one  of 
us.  Moreover,  she  respected  him.  At  times 
it  looked  as  if  she  were  somewhat  afraid  of  him. 

Now  you  must  know  that  at  bottom  Anna 
had  never  deserted  her  religion.  Instead,  she 
carried  the  burdens  of  both  religions;  to  the 
fear  of  the  Jewish  hell  she  seemed  to  have 
added  the  fear  of  the  Christian  hell.  I  suspect 
that  she  was  still  in  the  habit  of  reciting  her 
Hebrew  prayer  before  going  to  sleep.  She 
also  believed  in  dreams.  In  this  respect  all 
women  are  the  same.  Of  course,  she  had  her 
dreams,  and  Jacob  thought  himself  able  to  in- 
terpret them ;  he  used  to  seek  her  company  for 
that  purpose. 

So  we  all  began  to  feel  very  much  at  home  in 
Anna's  house. 


Ill 

Once  it  happened  that  Peter  entered  the 
house  at  a  moment  when  we  were  all  so  much 
absorbed  in  our  Yiddish  conversation  that  we 
did  not  notice  his  presence.  He  sat  down 
quietly  among  us  and  took  part  in  our  talk, 
smiling  in  his  usual  manner.  He  asked  us  some 
questions,  and  we  answered  him.  Then  we 
asked  him  something,  and  he  answered  us  in 
pure,  good  Yiddish,  as  if  there  were  nothing 
new  or  surprising  about  it.  At  last  Marusya 
awoke,  and  exclaimed  with  glad  surprise: 
"  Papa,  can  you  speak  Yiddish  too?  "  We  all 
shuddered,  as  if  caught  stealing.  Peter's  smile 
broadened,  covering  the  whole  of  his  face. 

"  Did  you  imagine  that  I  do  not  know  it?  I 
wish  you  could  speak  it  as  well  as  I  do." 

That  made  me  suspect  that  Peter  might  have 
been  himself  a  convert  from  Judaism,  and  I 
decided  to  ask  Anna  about  it.  She  cleared  up 
my  doubts  very  soon.  She  told  me  that  Peter 


ii2  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

had  been  brought  up  in  an  exclusively  Jewish 
town.  He  had  been  employed  there  as  a  clerk 
in  the  Town  Hall.  As  he  always  had  to  deal 
with  Jews,  he  finally  learned  their  language. 
She  told  me  at  the  same  time  that  Peter  rather 
liked  Jews,  and  that  he  was  a  man  of  more  than 
ordinary  ability;  otherwise,  she  said,  it  would 
have  been  very  foolish  on  her  part  to  leave  the 
religion  of  her  father  for  the  sake  of  Peter. 

"  What  did  you  say  was  the  name  of  your 
native  town?  "  I  asked  out  of  sheer  curiosity. 
She  mentioned  my  native  town.  I  felt  a  shiver 
go  through  me.  "  And  what  was  your  father's 
name  ?  "  I  asked  again,  trembling. 

"  Bendet." 

"  Was  he  a  wine-dealer?  " 

"  Yes;  and  how  do  you  know  it?  Are  you 
of  the  same  town?  " 

I  told  her  my  father's  name,  and  we  clasped 
hands  in  surprise. — 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  113 

While  the  old  man  was  telling  his  tale,  the 
clouds  dispersed.  I  looked  upwards :  the  dark 
sky  spread  vaultlike  above  us  studded  with 
stars,  some  in  groups,  some  far  apart.  Then 
I  remembered  what  the  Lord  had  promised  to 
our  father  Abraham :  "  And  I  shall  multiply 
thy  seed  as  the  stars  in  heaven."  And  I 
thought  I  saw  in  the  sky  naught  but  so  many 
groups  of  Jews:  some  kept  in  exile,  some  con- 
fined within  the  nebulas  of  the  Milky  Way.  .  .  . 
But  even  then,  it  seemed  to  me,  there  was  a 
strong  attraction,  a  deep  sympathy  between 
them  all,  far  apart  and  scattered  though  they 
were.  Even  so  they  formed  aggregations  of 
shining  stars — far  apart,  yet  near.  .  .  . 

VIII 

The  wind  began  to  grow  cold;  we  pressed 
close  to  one  another  to  keep  warm.  The  old 
man  drew  his  old  coat  tightly  about  him,  and 
continued  his  story : — 


ii4  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Well,  we  of  our  little  community  threw  off 
the  yoke  of  the  old  Torah,  yet  refused  to  accept 
the  yoke  of  the  new  Torah.  Nevertheless  our 
lives  were  far  from  being  barren.  Our  longing 
for  the  things  we  were  forbidden  to  practise 
prompted  us  to  invent  a  good  many  new  usages. 
For  instance,  long  before  we  had  the  freedom 
of  Anna's  house,  we  managed  to  meet  every 
Saturday  to  exchange  a  few  words  in  Yiddish ; 
two  or  three  words  were  sufficient  to  satisfy 
our  sense  of  duty.  Those  meetings  were  among 
the  things  for  the  sake  of  which  we  were  ready 
to  run  any  risk  of  discovery.  Of  course,  we 
dared  not  recite  our  Modeh-Ani:  our  patrons 
might  have  overheard  us,  and  that  meant  a  sure 
flogging.  But  we  practised  repeating  the  prayer 
mentally,  and  we  always  managed  to  do  it  with 
our  faces  turned  in  the  direction  from  which  we 
thought  we  had  come,  and  where  our  native 
towns  were  situated.  Jacob  had  a  little  piece 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  115 

of  cloth,  a  remnant  of  an  Arba-Kanfos.  The 
Tzitzis  had  long  been  torn  away,  to  prevent 
discovery  and  avoid  punishment;  but  what  was 
left  of  it  we  kept  secretly,  and  we  used  to  kiss 
it  at  opportune  moments,  as  if  it  were  a  scroll 
of  the  Torah. 

Then  we  made  a  point  of  abstaining  from 
work  at  least  one  hour  every  Saturday  and  on 
the  days  that  were  Jewish  holidays  according  to 
Jacob's  calendar.  On  the  other  hand,  work 
was  considered  obligatory  on  Sundays  and  on 
Christian  holidays.  Tearing  up  some  papers 
or  starting  a  fire  was  thought  sufficient. 

These  and  many  other  usages  we  invented, 
slowly,  one  after  another.  In  time  we  got  into 
the  habit  of  observing  them  very  punctiliously, 
even  after  we  had  made  ourselves  at  home  in 
Anna's  house.  But  over  and  above  all  Jacob 
never  gave  up  preaching  to  me  that  it  was  wrong 
on  the  part  of  an  oppressed  Jew  to  accept  favors 


n6  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

from  a  non-Jew.  And  this  he  preached  with- 
out ever  noticing  that  he  was  himself  giving  in 
to  temptation  when  he  accepted  favors  and 
kindnesses  from  Anna.  As  to  Marusya,  he 
always  found  a  pretext  to  separate  us  whenever 
he  met  me  in  her  company.  I  was  very  angry 
with  him  for  that,  but  I  could  not  tell  him  so 
openly.  At  last  it  came  to  such  a  pass  that 
Marusya  lost  all  patience,  and  made  me  the 
scapegoat.  She  stopped  having  anything  to  do 
with  me. 

Now  that  was  a  real  misfortune  as  far  as  I 
was  concerned.  For  only  then  did  I  come  to 
realize  how  much  I  was  attached  to  the  girl.  I 
felt  an  utter  emptiness  in  my  heart;  I  began  to 
feel  myself  a  total  stranger  in  the  house.  When 
everybody  was  talking  merrily,  I  kept  quiet,  as 
if  I  were  a  mourner.  I  was  always  looking  for 
Marusya,  I  was  always  trying  to  catch  her  eye. 
I  hoped  that  our  eyes  would  meet,  that  she 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  117 

would  at  least  look  at  me.  But  she  kept  on 
avoiding  me.  No,  she  did  not  avoid  me :  she 
simply  did  not  seem  to  know  that  I  was  in  the 
house.  I  was  exasperated;  and  when  once  I 
came  face  to  face  with  Jacob,  I  lost  my  temper, 
and  berated  him  roundly,  attacking  him  on  his 
weakest  side : 

"  Is  it  on  me  that  you  are  spying?  How 
many  favors,  if  you  please,  have  you  accepted 
yourself  from  Anna  ?  Perhaps  your  father  gave 
you  a  special  dispensation  in  your  dreams?  " 

To  all  of  this  Jacob  replied  very  calmly: 
"  First  of  all,  your  analogy  does  not  hold, 
for  you  and  Marusya  are  both  youngsters. 
And,  second,  even  supposing  I  were  sinning, 
it  is  your  fault  then,  too ;  for  it  is  clearly  your 
duty  to  warn  me.  At  the  same  time,  you  can 
imagine  how  much  the  whole  thing  grieves  me." 

Well,  after  all,  I  was  ready  to  forgive  him 
his  sins,  provided  he  overlooked  mine 


n8  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Yes,  that  happened  on  a  Saturday.  We  were 
all  standing  in  line  on  the  drill  grounds.  I  was 
in  the  first  line,  and  Jacob  was  directly  behind 
me  in  the  second  line.  We  were  going  through 
fhe  paces  of  the  so-called  three-step  exercise. 
It  was  this  way:  the  soldier  had  to  stretch  his 
left  leg  forward  on  a  somewhat  oblique  line,  so 
that  the  sole  of  his  foot  touched  the  ground 
without  resting  on  it.  That  was  the  first  pace, 
the  hardest  of  all,  as  we  had  to  stand  on  one 
leg,  with  the  other  a  dead  weight.  In  this 
position  we  had  to  keep  standing  till  the  com- 
mand was  given  for  the  second  pace.  At  that 
moment  we  had  to  shift  to  our  left  leg,  and 
quickly  bend  the  right  leg  at  the  knee-joint  at 
a  right  angle.  Thus  we  had  to  stand  till  the 
command  was  given  for  the  third  pace,  when 
we  had  to  unbend  the  right  leg  and  bring  it  for- 
ward. On  that  day  we  were  kept  at  the  first 
pace  unusually  long.  My  muscles  began  to 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  119 

twitch,  and  I  felt  as  if  needles  were  pricking 
me  from  under  the  skin.  Suddenly  I  felt  as  if 
I  had  lost  my  footing,  and  was  suspended  in  the 
air.  Then  I  fell.  This  was  my  first  mishap  on 
that  day.  The  sergeant  made  believe  that  he 
did  not  notice  it,  and  I  congratulated  myself, 
hoping  it  would  pass  unremarked. 

The  sergeant  was  busy  with  the  last  of  our 
line :  somehow  he  did  not  like  the  way  he  was 
standing.  Just  then,  in  a  crazy  fit  of  contrari- 
ness, I  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  fulfil  my  duty  of 
talking  a  few  words  of  Yiddish  on  Saturday.  I 
turned  my  head  and  whispered  to  Jacob  in 
Yiddish:  "  He  is  going  to  keep  us  here  the 
whole  day!  When  shall  we  have  our  hour's 
rest?"  At  that  moment  the  sergeant  passed 
between  the  lines,  and  overheard  me  speaking 
Yiddish.  O  yes,  they  have  sharp  ears,  those 
drill-masters.  As  you  know,  speaking  Yiddish 
was  considered  a  great  breach  of  discipline, 


120  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

which  never  passed  unpunished.  It  always 
meant  a  whipping.  So  I  had  made  myself 
guilty  of  two  offenses.  On  that  day  I  did  not 
go  home  empty-handed :  I  got  an  order  to  re- 
port the  next  morning  to  receive  my  twenty 
lashes.  I  received  my  order  like  a  soldier, 
saluted,  and  seemed  cool  about  it — for  the  time 
being.  That  pleased  the  sergeant  greatly;  he 
was  a  thorough  soldier  himself,  and  heartily 
hated  tenderfeet  and  cowards.  He  looked  at 
me  approvingly,  and  said:  "  Because  you  have 
always  been  a  good  soldier,  I  shall  make  the 
punishment  easier  for  you.  You  have  the  privi- 
lege of  dividing  the  number  of  lashes  in  two: 
ten  you  get  to-morrow,  and  ten  you  may  put  off 
for  some  other  time."  That  was  the  customary 
way  of  making  the  punishment  easier  in  the 
cases  when  the  Cantonist  was  either  too  weak 
to  take  in  the  whole  number  of  lashes  at  once, 
or  was  thought  to  deserve  consideration  other- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  121 

wise.  A  temporary  relief  it  certainly  was;  but 
in  the  end  the  relief  was  worse  than  the  punish- 
ment itself.  Between  the  first  half  of  the 
punishment  and  the  other  half,  life  was  a  bur- 
den to  the  culprit:  he  could  neither  eat,  nor 
drink,  nor  sleep  in  peace.  Every  moment  he 
felt  as  if  his  back  were  not  his  own,  that  he 
merely  had  borrowed  it  for  a  while,  and  sooner 
or  later  he  would  have  to  stretch  himself  on  the 
ground,  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  rider  on  his 
neck  and  of  another  on  his  feet,  and  have  the 
rods  fall  on  him  with  a  swish:  one,  two, 
three.  .  .  . 

And  the  pain  was  awful.  It  felt  as  if  the 
skin  were  being  torn  away  in  strips.  A  new 
lash  on  the  fresh  cut,  and  another  strip  was 
torn  out;  then  another  strip  across  the  two. 
One  felt  like  yelling,  but  the  throat  was  dry. 
One  felt  like  scratching  the  ground,  but  the 
finger  nails  had  long  become  soft.  One  felt 


122  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

like  biting  one's  own  flesh,  but  one  had  no 
power  over  himself  so  long  as  a  man  was  sitting 
on  his  neck  and  pinning  it  tight  to  the  ground. 
It  was  hard  enough  to  stand  the  ordeal  itself, 
as  hard  as  hell.  But  it  was  still  harder  to  bear 
in  mind  that  such  a  punishment  was  coming. 
It  felt  as  if  one  was  being  flogged  every 
moment.  So,  in  the  stress  of  the  moment,  I 
found  my  speech.  "  Sir,"  said  I,  saluting,  "  I 
would  rather  stand  twenty-five  lashes  at  once 
than  have  the  twenty  lashes  divided  in  two 
parts." 

"  Why?  "  asked  the  sergeant. 

"  Because  a  Russian  soldier  has  no  time  to 
keep  accounts  that  concern  only  his  own  back. 
He  has  no  right  to  forget  his  military  duties 
even  for  a  single  moment." 

Here  the  sergeant  gave  me  an  approving 
smile,  and  reduced  the  twenty  lashes  to  ten. 
Then  Jacob  stepped  forward,  stood  at  atten- 
tion, saluted,  and  said : 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  123 

"  Sir,  it  is  not  his  fault,  but  mine.  It  was  I 
who  spoke  to  him.  He  was  silent.  As  to  his 
falling  during  the  drill,  that  was  also  my  fault : 
I  made  him  stumble.  I  am  ready  to  stand  the 
punishment,  because  I  am  the  guilty  one." 

The  sergeant  threw  a  quick,  admiring  glance 
at  Jacob,  and  said : 

"  Your  intentions  are  certainly  good,  because 
you  wish  to  sacrifice  yourself  for  your  friend. 
You  might  serve  as  a  model  for  all  the  young 
soldiers.  Boys,  do  you  hear?  Love  one  an- 
other as  Jacob  loves  his  guilty  friend !  But  you 
must  know  that  your  sergeant  is  not  to  be 
fooled;  his  eyes  are  everywhere,  and  he  cer- 
tainly knows  the  guilty  one  !  " 

When  I  went  home,  I  felt  neither  glad  nor 
despondent;  I  felt  as  if  I  did  not  exist  at  all — 
as  if  my  very  body  did  not  belong  to  me,  but 
had  been  borrowed  for  a  few  hours.  That 
night  I  woke  up  many  times;  I  felt  as  if  snakes 


i24  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

were  crawling  over  my  flesh.  I  got  up  early 
the  next  morning.  Marusya  was  yet  in  bed, 
half  awake. 

"  Where  arc  you  going? "  asked  Anna, 
standing  in  my  way.  I  kept  silent  for  a  while, 
then  I  made  a  clean  breast  of  it  all.  Anna 
shook  her  head  at  me,  and  said  with  tears 
glistening  in  her  eyes:  "  Poor  fellow,  and 
where  are  you  going  to?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  the  sergeant's;  if  it  has  been 
decreed,  let  it  be  done  quickly." 

"  Why  should  you  go  hungry?  " 

"  That  does  not  matter."  I  waved  my  hand, 
and  walked  away  slowly.  On  the  way  I  met 
some  people,  but  I  did  not  greet  them;  some 
people  overtook  me,  but  I  did  not  even  notice 
them  pass.  I  had  nothing  in  my  mind  except 
my  own  shoulders  and  the  stinging  rods.  And 
for  a  moment  I  really  lost  heart;  I  acted  like 
a  tenderfoot  instead  of  a  Cantonist.  I  was 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  125 

ready  to  cry;  my  tears  were  choking  me,  as  if 
I  were  mamma's  only  darling.  It  was  about  a 
two  hours'  walk  to  the  sergeant's.  When  I 
arrived  there,  I  stood  outside  and  waited  for 
him.  Then  I  thought  I  heard  the  sound  of 
some  not  unfamiliar  voice:  arguments,  expostu- 
lations, again  arguments.  Somebody  was  talk- 
ing earnestly  behind  the  closed  door.  I  could 
not  make  out  what  was  said.  Neither  did  I 
have  any  desire  to  know  what  it  was  all  about. 
I  was  very  impatient.  I  longed  for  the  sergeant 
to  come  out  and  do  the  thing  he  had  to  do  to 
me.  I  wished  for  all  to  be  over  and  done  with 
— that  I  had  already  been  carried  to  the  hospi- 
tal and  been  bandaged;  that  the  days  in  the 
hospital  had  gone;  that  I  had  recovered  and 
had  been  dismissed.  But  at  the  same  time  I 
hoped  the  sergeant  might  be  a  little  slow  in 
coming  out,  and  that  my  pain  might  be  post- 
poned for  a  little  while.  In  short,  I  was  divided 

9 


126  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

against  myself:  I  had  two  wishes,  one  exclud- 
ing the  other.  Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and 
on  the  threshold  was  standing — do  you  know 
who  ?  Marusya !  Yes,  dear  God,  it  was  Ma- 
rusya.  She  was  standing  at  the  right  of  the 
sergeant.  With  one  hand  he  was  playing  with 
her  locks,  and  in  the  other  he  was  holding  both 
her  hands.  Then  he  turned  to  me : 

"  Hourvitz,  this  young  lady  has  interceded 
in  your  favor.  And  a  soldier  is  in  honor  bound 
to  respect  the  request  of  such  a  nice  girl.  So, 
for  her  sake,  all  is  forgiven  this  time.  Go 
home!" 

At  that  moment  I  was  ready  to  take  forty 
lashes,  if  only  I  might  remove  the  sergeant's 
hands  from  off  Marusya.  I  went  home  at  a 
very  slow  pace,  so  that  Marusya  might  overtake 
me  on  the  road.  I  thought  she  might  talk  to 
me  then.  I  meant  to  ask  her  how  she  had 
gotten  ahead  of  me  without  my  noticing  her. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  127 

The  minutes  seemed  hours ;  I  thought  she  would 
never  come  out  of  the  house.  Then  a  crazy 
idea  struck  me — to  return  to  the  sergeant's 
house  and  see  what  had  happened  to  Marusya. 
After  all,  I  thought,  what  can  the  sergeant  do 
to  me  more  than  have  me  whipped?  At  that 
moment  I  thought  little  of  the  rods ;  it  seemed 
to  me  just  then  that  the  rods  did  not  hurt  so 
much  after  all,  and  the  pain  they  caused  was 
only  temporary;  it  was  hardly  worth  while 
giving  the  matter  much  thought.  And,  I  am 
sure,  for  the  moment  I  had  lost  all  sense  of 
pain.  Had  they  flogged  me  then,  I  should  not 
have  felt  any  pain.  I  turned  back.  Luckily 
I  did  not  have  to  go  as  far  as  the  sergeant's 
house ;  I  met  Marusya  on  the  way.  She  passed 
me,  looking  right  and  left,  as  if  I  were  a  mere 
stone  lying  on  the  roadside. 

"  Marusya !  "  I  called  after  her.     But  she 
kept  on  walking  ahead,  as  if  she  had  not  heard 


128  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

me.  "  Marusya,"  I  cried  again,  "  is  that  the 
way  you  are  going  to  treat  me  ? !  Why,  then, 
did  you  save  me  from  the  rods?  " 

She  stopped  for  a  moment,  as  though  think- 
ing of  something.  Her  handkerchief  fell  from 
her  hand.  She  sighed  deeply,  picked  up  the 
handkerchief,  and  resumed  her  walk.  I  re- 
turned to  the  village  alone.  Anna  met  me  with 
tears  of  joy  in  her  eyes.  I  broke  out  into  tears 
myself,  without  really  knowing  why.  I  caught 
Marusya's  eye,  but  her  look  was  a  puzzle  to 
me. — 

Presently  our  horses  began  to  trot  at  a  lively 
pace ;  they  felt  the  road  sloping  downhill.  The 
driver,  who  had  long  been  nodding  in  his  seat, 
was  suddenly  shaken  out  of  his  slumbers.  He 
woke  up  with  a  start,  and  flourished  his  whip; 
which  is  a  habit  acquired  in  his  trade.  Uphill 
or  downhill,  your  coach-driver  is  bound  to  work 
with  his  whip.  Let  him  be  disturbed,  no  matter 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  129 

when, — even  when  he  drops  into  a  doze  in  his 
Klaus  on  a  Yom-Kippur  night — he  will  in- 
variably shake  his  hand  at  the  intruder  as  if 
swinging  his  whip. 

As  the  horses  increased  their  speed,  the  bay- 
ing of  dogs  became  audible ;  a  village  was  not 
far  off.  Cheering  and  inviting  as  the  distant 
chorus  sounded,  it  resolved  itself  by  and  by 
into  single  barks,  and  every  bark  seemed  to 
say,  "  Away  with  you,"  "  Stand  back,"  "  No 
strangers  admitted,"  and  the  like.  A  gust  of 
wind  brought  to  our  nostrils  warmish  air  laden 
with  all  kinds  of  smells:  smells  of  smouldering 
dung,  of  garbage,  and  of  humanity  in  general. 
Soon  lights  began  to  twinkle  from  huddled 
shanties  and  from  broad-faced  houses,  as  if 
welcoming  our  arrival.  It  looked  as  if  the 
village  were  priding  itself  on  its  lights,  and 
boasting  before  Heaven :  "  See  how  much 
stronger  I  am :  sunk  in  the  deep  slush  of  a  dirty 


130  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

valley,  I  have  my  own  lights  and  my  own  stars 
within  myself." 

The  village  seemed  to  have  shrunk  within 
the  limits  of  its  own  nest,  glad  that  it  need  not 
know  the  ills  and  the  hardships  of  travel. 

The  driver  ordered  an  hour's  rest. 

IX 

After  we  had  warmed  ourselves  a  little  in 
the  village  inn,  we  returned  to  our  seats  in  the 
coach,  and  the  driver  continued  his  "  talk " 
with  the  horses.  The  old  man  resumed  his 
story : — 

Well,  I  had  fallen  into  debt;  and  my  two 
creditors  were  very  hard  to  satisfy.  Jacob  had 
offered,  though  vainly,  to  sacrifice  his  skin  for 
mine  and  suffer  the  lashes  intended  for  me. 
Marusya  took  the  trouble  to  walk  all  the  way 
to  the  sergeant's  house  and  talk  with  him,  to 
save  me  from  punishment.  Thus  I  was  in- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  131 

debted  to  both  of  them,  but  with  a  difference. 
While  trying  to  belittle  the  good  intentions  of 
Jacob,  I  tried  at  the  same  time  to  belittle  my 
obligation  to  him,  whose  authority  was  fast  be- 
coming irksome.  Marusya,  on  the  other  hand, 
refused  to  accept  my  thanks 

Well,  by  that  time  I  had  long  considered 
myself  a  good  young  soldier.  I  knew  I  was 
growing  in  the  favor  of  my  superiors.  ^The 
sergeant  had  praised  me  repeatedly,  in  my  pres- 
ence and  in  my  absence.  I  began  to  feel  my 
own  worth,  to  cherish  military  aspirations,  and 
to  burn  with  the  ambition  of  a  soldier.  Many 
a  time  I  dreamt  I  was  promoted  from  the  ranks, 
had  become  a  colonel,  and  was  promoted  to  a 
higher  rank  still.  ...  I  fought  in  battles,  per- 
formed wonderful  feats.  .  .  . 

About  that  time  they  began  to  talk  in  the 
army  about  the  Turks.  Jacob  and  I  had  our 
differences  with  respect  to  them.  He  tried  to 


132  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

prove  to  me  that  the  Turks,  being  the  sons  of 
Ishmael,  were  our  cousins.  But  I  did  not  be- 
lieve it.  I  did  not  wish  to  believe  it,  in  spite  of 
everything.  He  claimed  that  the  children  of 
Ishmael  were  heroes,  brave  as  lions.  But  I 
used  to  say,  "  Just  give  me  ten  Turks,  and  I 
shall  put  them  out  of  business  with  one  shot!  " 

On  account  of  these  talks  Jacob  and  I  began 
to  avoid  one  another's  company.  He  was  too 
hard  on  me,  with  his  endless  contradictions, 
admonitions,  and  warnings. 

One  day  we  went  out  target  shooting.  Jacob 
fired  twelve  shots  in  succession,  at  long  range, 
and  every  shot  was  a  bull's  eye.  He  outdid  all 
his  comrades  on  that  day.  Then  the  sergeant 
put  his  hand  on  Jacob's  shoulder,  and  said: 
"  Bravo,  Jacob !  I  see  a  coming  officer  in  you ! 
Have  you  a  petition  to  make  of  me  for  some- 
thing I  can  grant?  "  Then  Jacob  saluted,  and 
asked  to  be  permitted  to  recite  his  Hebrew 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  133 

prayers  daily  and  rest  on  Saturdays.  The 
sergeant  smiled,  and  granted  Jacob's  request. 

I  may  just  as  well  tell  you  now  that  long  be- 
fore this  incident  the  authorities  had  lost  all 
hope  of  getting  us  converted  to  the  ruling  faith. 
They  became  convinced  that  we  did  not  budge 
so  much  as  an  inch,  in  spite  of  all  the  pressure 
and  tortures  we  had  to  stand.  They  realized 
at  last  that  only  compulsion  could  make  us  say 
certain  prayers  before  the  crucifix  every  morn- 
ing. So  by  and  by  they  gave  it  up.  And 
Jacob's  request  was  not  so  hard  to  grant  after 
all. 

From  that  moment  Jacob  became  a  bitter 
enemy  of  the  Turks.  He  pictured  them  as 
midgets,  and  named  his  patron's  dog  "  Turk." 
Aside  from  all  this  there  was  a  general  change 
in  Jacob's  disposition;  it  was  something  that 
one  could  only  feel,  but  not  exactly  see. 

We  had  a  very  hard  winter  that  year,  quite 


134  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

different  from  what  we  have  now.  Nowadays 
the  very  seasons  of  the  year  seem  to  have 
softened:  new  generations — new  people;  new 
times — new  winters.  Why,  only  last  mid-win- 
ter I  saw  the  rabbi's  daughter-in-law  pass 
through  the  streets  bareheaded.  In  mid-sum- 
mer she  drank  hot  tea,  and  caught  a  cold  in  her 
teeth.  It  is  all  the  way  I  am  telling  you :  the 
world  is  turned  topsyturvy.  In  olden  times  a 
married  woman  would  not  dare  uncover  her 
hair  even  in  the  presence  of  her  husband;  it 
was  also  thought  dangerous  even  for  a  man  to 
go  out  bareheaded  in  winter  time;  and  nobody 
ever  caught  a  cold  in  midsummer.  Nowadays 
things  are  different:  only  last  winter  I  saw 
soldiers  shiver  with  cold,  while  in  our  time  a 
soldier  was  ashamed  to  show  he  was  afraid  of 
the  cold.  Yes,  new  generations,  new  soldiers; 
new  times,  new  seasons.  .  .  . 

In  short,  that  winter  was  a  very  hard  one : 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  135 

heavy  snowfalls,  snow-storms,  and  no  roads. 
The  peasants  could  not  go  outside  of  the  vil- 
lage; they  had  to  stay  home,  and  being  idle 
and  lonesome,  they  celebrated  their  weddings 
at  that  convenient  season.  Many  people  used 
to  go  to  their  weddings  merely  as  sight-seers,  I 
among  them,  for  my  sergeant  gave  me  plenty 
of  freedom.  I  had  been  excused-  from  a  large 
part  of  the  drill;  it  was  really  superfluous  as 
far  as  I  was  concerned.  I  had  long  learned 
all  there  was  to  learn.  So  I  had  much  leisure 
to  knock  about  in.  Well,  my  sergeant  rather 
liked  us  grown-up  Cantonists.  We  were,  with 
hardly  an  exception,  very  good  soldiers  in- 
deed. And,  after  all,  what  was  the  hope  of  the 
sergeant,  if  not  the  praise  of  his  superior, 
"  Bravo,  sergeant !  "  He  liked  to  hear  it,  just 
as  we  ourselves  liked  to  hear  his  "  Bravo,  boys, 
well  done !  " 

One  of  the  weddings  of  that  season  hap- 


136  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

pened  to  take  place  in  the  house  of  the  richest 
peasant  of  the  village,  one  of  those  peasants 
who  try  to  rise  above  their  class.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  among  the  invited  guests 
was  the  very  cream  of  the  village  society:  the 
few  Government  officials,  the  village  elder,  the 
clerk  of  the  village,  our  sergeant,  etc.  Yes, 
as  to  our  sergeant,  he  was  a  jolly  sort  of 
fellow.  He  enjoyed  a  good  laugh  himself,  and 
liked  to  hear  others  laugh.  He  liked  to  pass 
jokes  with  his  soldiers,  too.  But  then  he  was 
always  the  first  to  laugh  at  his  own  jokes;  it 
seemed  as  if  he  might  laugh  himself  to  death. 
Of  course,  his  hearty  laughter  made  one  laugh 
with  him,  joke  or  no  joke.  Yes,  he  was  a  good 
fellow;  may  he,  too,  have  his  place  among  the 
righteous  in  Paradise.  True,  he  had  us 
switched  once  in  a  while ;  but  that  was  the  way 
of  the  world  in  those  days.  For  he,  too,  grew 
up  and  had  been  promoted  from  under  the 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  137 

birch-rods.  You  know  what  all  this  reminds 
me  of?  Take  this  driver,  for  instance:  he  is 
used  to  belabor  his  horses  with  the  whip;  and 
yet  he  likes  them,  you  may  be  sure.  Of  course, 
our  sergeant  would  scold  us  once  in  a  while,  too. 
But  then  his  scolding  seemed  to  hurt  him  more 
than  us:  he  looked  as  if  he  had  gotten  the 
scolding  himself.  The  jokers  of  our  company 
used  to  say  of  him,  that  he  stood  up  every 
morning  before  his  own  uniform,  and  saluted 
it  as  it  hung  on  the  wall.  .  .  . 

In  short,  he  liked  to  mingle  with  people  and 
to  make  merry;  then  he  was  always  the  happiest 
of  all. 

Of  course,  he  also  had  been  invited  to  that 
wedding. 

Marusya,  too,  was  there,  and  that  was  against 
her  habit.  She  kept  away  from  all  kinds  of 
public  gatherings  and  festivities.  And  right 
she  was,  too,  in  staying  away.  For  it  was  in 


138  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

the  company  of  other  girls  that  her  brooding, 
melancholy  disposition  showed  itself  most 
clearly.  Did  I  say  melancholy?  No,  it  was 
not  exactly  melancholy.  It  was  rather  the  feel- 
ing of  total  isolation,  which  one  could  not  help 
reading  on  her  face.  And  a  total  stranger  she 
certainly  was  in  that  throng.  When  she  kept 
quiet,  her  very  silence  betrayed  her  presence 
among  the  chattering  girls.  One  could  almost 
hear  her  silence.  And  when  she  did  take  part 
in  the  conversation,  her  voice  somehow  sounded 
strange  and  far  away  in  the  chorus  of  voices. 
Her  very  dress  seemed  different,  though  she 
was  dressed  just  like  any  other  of  the  village 
girls.  It  was  in  her  gait,  her  deportment,  in 
her  very  being  that  she  differed  from  the  rest 
of  the  girls.  From  the  moment  she  entered 
the  house  she  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  in- 
quisitive looks,  which  seemed  to  pierce  her 
very  body  and  make  Her  look  like  a  sieve,  as  it 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  139 

were.  I  looked  at  Marusya,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  her  face  had  become  longer  and  her 
lips  more  compressed;  her  eyes  seemed  wider 
open  and  lying  deeper  in  their  sockets.  She 
looked  shrunken  and  contracted,  very  much 
like  my  mother  on  the  eve  of  the  Ninth  of  Av, 
when  she  read  aloud  the  Lamentations  for  the 
benefit  of  her  illiterate  women-friends. 

Well,  that  evening  the  sergeant  danced  with 
Marusya,  neglecting  the  other  girls  entirely. 
They  kept  on  refusing  the  invitations  of  the 
cavaliers,  in  the  hope  that  they  might  yet  have 
a  chance  to  dance  with  the  sergeant.  The 
result  was  that  the  cavaliers  were  angry  with 
the  girls ;  the  girls,  with  Marusya ;  and  I,  with 
the  sergeant. 

And  when  a  recess  was  called,  something 
happened:  one  of  the  bachelors,  Serge  Ivan- 
ovich,  my  old  enemy,  stood  up  behind  Marusya, 
and  shouted  with  all  his  might,  "  Zhidovka!  " 


140  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Then  the  envious  girls  broke  out  into  a  malicious 
giggle. 

Marusya  turned  crimson.  She  looked  first 
at  the  sergeant:  he  was  curling  his  mustache, 
and  tried  to  look  angry.  Then  Marusya  turned 
away  from  him,  and  I  caught  her  eye.  Well, 
that  was  too  much  for  me.  I  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer.  I  sprang  at  Serge  and  dragged 
him  to  Marusya.  I  struck  him  once  and  twice, 
got  him  by  the  neck,  and  belabored  him  with 
the  hilt  of  my  sword. 

"  Apologize !  "  said  I. 

Now,  no  one  is  so  obedient  as  your  Gentile 
once  you  have  him  down.  And  Serge  Ivanovich 
did  not  balk.  He  apologized  in  the  very  words 
that  I  dictated  to  him.  Then  I  let  him  go.  The 
sergeant  looked  at  me  approvingly,  as  if  wish- 
ing to  say,  "  Well  done !  "  This  prevented  the 
young  men  from  attacking  me. 

Marusya  left  the  house,  and  I  followed  her. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  141 

Once  outside,  she  broke  out  into  tears.  She  said 
something  between  sobs,  but  I  could  not  make 
out  what  she  meant.  I  thought  she  was  com- 
plaining of  someone,  probably  her  mother.  I 
wished  very  much  to  comfort  her,  but  I  did  not 
know  how.  So  we  walked  on  in  silence.  The 
hard,  crisp  snow  was  squeaking  rhythmically 
under  our  feet,  as  if  we  were  trying  to  play  a 
tune.  And  from  the  house  snatches  of  music 
reached  us,  mixed  with  sounds  of  quarreling 
and  merry-making.  It  seemed  as  if  all  those 
sounds  were  pursuing  us:  "Zhid!  Zhid!  " 
Suddenly  a  sense  of  resentment  overtook  me, 
as  if  I  had  been  called  upon  to  defend  the  Jews. 
And  I  blurted  out : 

"  If  it  is  so  hard  to  be  insulted  once  by  a 
youngster  who  cannot  count  his  own  years  yet, 
how  much  harder  is  it  to  hear  insults  day  in  and 
day  out,  year  in  and  year  out?  " 


1 42  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Marusya  looked  at  me  with  sparkling  eyes. 
She  thought  I  was  angry  with  her  and  meant 
her.  Then  she  wanted  to  soothe  my  feelings, 
and  she  said  wonderingly: 

"  Years?  What,  pray,  did  I  do  to  you?  I 
only  wanted  you  not  to  listen  to  Jacob.  He  is 
a  bad  man.  He  hates  me.  He  is  forever  on 
the  lookout  to  separate  us !  " 

"  He  is  afraid,"  said  I,  "  I  might  yet  get 
converted." 

At  this  Marusya  gave  me  an  irresistible  look, 
the  look  of  a  mother,  of  a  loving  sister. 

"  No,"  she  said  decidedly,  "  I  shall  not  let 
you  do  that.  You  and  your  daughters  will  be 
unhappy  forever.  You  know  what  I  have  de- 
cided? I  have  decided  never  to  get  married. 
For  I  know  that  my  own  daughters  will  always 
be  called  Zhidovka."  At  this  point  I  became 
sorry  for  the  turn  our  conversation  had  taken, 
and  I  cared  no  more  for  the  defense  of  the 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  143 

Jews.    After  a  brief  silence  Marusya  turned  to 
me: 

;<  Why  does  mother  dislike  the  Jews  so 
much?  She  surely  knows  them  better  than 
papa  does." 

{  Very  likely  she  fears  being  called  Zhid- 
ovka,  as  they  called  you." 

"  But,  then,  why  did  she  get  herself  into  that 
trouble?" 

"  Ask  her  yourself ;  she  may  tell  you."  .... 

Never  mind  what  passed  between  us  after- 
wards. It  does  not  suit  a  man  of  my  age  to  go 
into  particulars,  the  way  the  story-writers  do. 
Suffice  it  to  tell  you  that  our  relations  became 
very  much  complicated.  Marusya  attached 
herself  to  me;  she  became  a  sister  to  me. 

So,  after  all,  Jacob's  fears  had  been  well 
founded  from  the  very  beginning.  I  felt  I  had 
gotten  myself  into  a  tangle,  but  I  did  nothing 
to  escape  from  it;  on  the  contrary,  I  was  getting 
myself  deeper  and  deeper  into  it. — 


144  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Here  the  old  man's  eyes  flashed  with  a  fire 
that  fairly  penetrated  the  darkness,  and  for  a 

moment  I  thought  it  was  but  a  youth  of  eigh- 
», 

teen  who  was  sitting  opposite  me.  I  was  glad 
that  the  dark  hid  the  whiteness  of  the  old 
man's  beard  from  my  view.  The  white  beard 
was  entirely  out  of  harmony  with  the  youthful 
ardor  of  its  owner's  speech. 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  few  minutes,  and 
the  old  man  continued  his  story: — 

X 

Hard  as  Anna's  lot  was,  Peter  himself  was 
not  very  happy  either.  I  do  not  know  how 
things  are  managed  nowadays.  As  I  told  you 
before,  new  times  bring  new  people  with  new 
ways.  It  never  happened  in  our  day  that  a 
Jewish  maiden,  no  matter  what  class  she  be- 
longed to,  should  throw  herself  at  a  young 
Gentile,  and  tell  him,  "  Now,  I  am  ready  to 
leave  my  faith  and  my  people,  if  you  will  marry 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  145 

me."  In  our  day  there  never  was  a  case  of 
apostasy  except  after  a  good  deal  of  courting. 
No  Jewish  girl  ever  left  her  faith,  unless  there 
was  a  proposal  of  marriage  accompanied  by 
much  coaxing.  It  required  a  great  deal  of 
coaxing  and  enticing  on  the  part  of  the  man. 
Only  extravagant  promises  and  assurances, 
which  never  could  be  made  good,  could  prompt 
a  Jewish  maiden  to  leave  her  faith.  And  such 
had  been  the  case  with  Khlopov,  as  Anna  told 
me  afterwards. 

Anna,  or,  as  she  had  been  called  as  a  Jewess, 
Hannah,  had  spent  her  girlhood  under  the  rule 
of  a  stepmother.  Peter  was  a  young  man  earn- 
ing a  fair  salary  as  a  clerk  at  the  Town  Hall. 
He  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Bendet's  wine-shop. 
And  Peter  was  an  expert  judge  of  the  comeli- 
ness of  Jewish  maidens  in  general  and  of  Anna's 
beauty  in  particular.  So,  when  Peter  did  come, 
he  came  as  a  veritable  angel-protector.  He 


146  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

came  to  save  her  from  the  yoke  of  a  stepmother 
and  make  her  his  wife.  He  promised  her 
"  golden  castles  "  and  a  "  paradise  on  earth." 
All  that  would  be  hers  but  for  one  obstacle: 
she  had  to  renounce  her  faith.  At  first  Anna 
was  unwilling.  But  the  stepmother  made  Anna 
as  miserable  as  only  human  beings  know  how. 
Then  Bendet's  business  began  to  go  from  bad 
to  worse,  so  that  Anna  had  very  slim  prospects 
of  ever  exchanging  the  yoke  of  a  stepmother 
for  that  of  a  husband.  At  the  same  time  Peter 
urged  his  suit,  coaxing  her  more  and  more. 
Anna  warned  Peter,  that  in  her  new  life  she 
might  find  misery  instead  of  happiness.  She 
was  sure  she  would  be  a  stranger  to  the  people 
with  whom  she  would  have  to  come  in  contact. 
Should  she  happen  to  be  below  the  other 
women,  they  would  despise  her.  Should  she 
happen  to  be  above  them,  they  would  envy  and 
hate  her.  Here  she  certainly  spoke  like  a 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  147 

prophetess.  But  Peter  kept  on  assuring  her  that 
she  was  the  very  best  of  all  women,  and  that  he 
would  be  her  protector  in  all  possible  troubles. 
Then  she  argued  that  he  might  not  be  happy 
himself;  that  he  would  have  to  fight  many  a 
battle.  His  parents  would  surely  not  agree 
with  him.  His  relations  would  shun  him.  In 
short,  he  would  be  isolated.  Peter  laughed  at 
her,  and  told  her  that  all  her  fears  were  nothing 
but  the  imagination  of  an  unhappy  maiden  who 
did  not  believe  in  the  possibility  of  ever  being 
happy.  He  told  her  also  that  not  all  the  women 
in  the  world  were  as  bad  as  her  stepmother. 
Still  Hannah  was  unwilling.  Then  Peter  at- 
tacked her  with  a  new  weapon.  He  made  be- 
lieve he  was  ill,  and  let  her  know  that  if  he 
should  die,  it  would  be  her  fault;  and  if  he  did 
not  die,  he  would  commit  suicide,  and  his  last 
thought  would  be  that  the  Jews  are  cruel,  and 
rejoice  in  the  misfortune  of  a  Christian.  Then 


148  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Hannah  gave  in,  did  as  she  was  urged,  and 
was  renamed  Anna. 

Now  what  Anna  found  in  actual  life  far 
exceeded  what  Hannah  had  prophesied.  The 
women  of  the  village  kept  aloof  from  her,  and 
for  many  reasons.  The  first  reason  was  that 
she  never  visited  the  village  tavern.  She  never 
drank  any  liquor  herself,  nor  treated  her 
visitors  with  it.  '  And  nothing  in  the  world 
brings  such  people  together  as  liquor  does. 
Then  the  men  hated  her  for  the  purity  and 
chastity  which  she  brought  from  her  father's 
house.  Besides,  men  and  women  alike  envied 
the  prosperity  of  Khlopov's  household,  which 
was  due  only  to  Anna's  thrift.  All  those 
reasons,  as  well  as  many  others,  were  included 
in  the  one  word  "  Zhidovka."  So  that  word 
may  stand  for  anything  you  choose.  As  to 
Peter's  brothers  and  relatives,  they  not  only 
kept  away  from  him,  but  also  became  his  open 
or  secret  enemies. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  149 

By  and  by  Peter  recognized  that  Hannah's 
fears  were  not  the  result  of  mere  imagination, 
but  the  true  prophecy  of  a  mature  young 
woman,  who  had  foreseen  her  own  future,  and 
he  could  not  help  feeling  hurt.  That  bitter 
thought  was  possibly  the  only  reason  why  he 
frequented  the  establishment  of  "  our  Mosh- 
ko."  He  wanted  to  get  rid  of  the  accursed 
thought;  but  he  did  not  succeed.  He  pined  for 
the  time  when  he  lived  among  Jews;  but  Anna 
could  not  possibly  return  to  live  among  them. 
In  the  meantime  Peter  sickened,  and  took  to 
bed.  Anna  knew  there  was  still  some  litigation 
pending  between  Khlopov  and  his  relations,  and 
his  title  to  the  property  he  held  by  inheritance 
was  disputed.  And  she  always  feared  the  worst : 
should  she  survive  Peter,  his  relations  would 
start  proceedings  against  her,  dispossess  her 
and  Marusya,  and  let  them  shift  for  themselves. 
Many  a  time  did  Anna  mention  the  matter  to 


150  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

Peter  in  a  casual,  off-hand  way;  but  he  merely 
smiled  his  usual  smile,  listened,  and  forgot  all 
about  it  the  next  morning. 

Well,  that  was  a  weakness  of  Peter's.  Writ- 
ing official  papers  had  been  his  lifework,  and 
when  he  had  to  do  writing  in  his  own  behalf, 
he  felt  disgusted.  He  could  not  touch  the  pen 
when  his  own  affairs  were  involved.  Even  the 
writing  of  a  simple  letter  he  used  to  put  off  from 
day  to  day.  And  when  it  came  to  clear  up  the 
title  to  his  holding,  he  would  have  had  to  write 
papers  and  fill  out  documents  enough  to  load 
two  pack-donkeys.  Small  wonder,  then,  that 
he  kept  putting  it  off. 

But  the  time  came  when  it  was  necessary 
that  Anna  should  speak  to  him  about  the  mat- 
ter; and  yet  she  could  not  muster  up  enough 
courage  to  do  it.  For  at  times  she  thought  her- 
self nothing  but  a  stranger  in  the  place.  Who 
was  she  anyway,  to  inherit  the  property  left  by 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  151 

old  Simeon  Khlopov,  deceased?  On  one  occa- 
sion she  asked  me  to  call  Peter's  attention  to  the 
matter  of  his  title  to  the  property.  I  entered 
the  sick-room  and  began  to  discuss  the  matter 
cautiously,  in  a  roundabout  way,  so  as  not  to 
excite  the  patient  by  implying  that  his  end  might 
be  near.  But  my  precautions  were  unnecessary. 
He  spoke  very  coolly  of  the  possibility  of  his 
end  coming  at  any  moment,  but  at  the  same  time 
he  insisted  that  there  was  really  no  need  to 
hurry,  a  proper  time  to  settle  the  matter  would 
be  found. 

Now  here  you  see  one  more  difference  be- 
tween Jews  and  Gentiles.  To  look  at  th  Gen- 
tiles, would  you  ever  think  them  all  fools? 
Why,  you  may  find  many  a  shrewd  man  among 
them,  many  a  man  who  could  get  me  and  you 
into  his  net,  as  the  spider  the  fly.  But  when  it 
comes  to  taking  care  of  the  next  day,  the  future, 
they  are  rather  foolish.  They  do  not  foresee 


152  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

things  as  clearly  as  the  Jew  does.  For  instance, 
do  I  not  work  hard  to  save  up  money  for  my 
daughter's  dowry,  even  though  I  hardly  expect 
her  to  get  married  for  two  years  at  least?  Do  I 
not  try  hard  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  my 
house,  so  as  to  leave  it  to  my  children  free  and 
clear?  Say  what  you  will,  I  hold  to  my  opinion, 
that  Gentile-folk  do  not  feel  the  "  to-morrow  " 
as  keenly  as  we  do.  If  you  like,  the  whole  life 
of  a  Jew  is  nothing  but  an  anticipation  of  "  to- 
morrow." Many  a  time  I  went  without  a  meal 
simply  because  I  forgot  to  eat,  or  thought  I  had 
eaten  already.  But  I  never  forget  anything  that 
concerns  the  coming  day.  I  can  hardly  explain 
it  to  you,  but  many  a  time  I  thought,  dull  as  my 
brains  were  made  by  my  soldier's  grub,  that  the 
Jew  is  altogether  a  creature  of  "  to-morrow." 
Well,  Peter  listened  to  me;  he  saw  there  was 
reason  in  what  I  told  him ;  and  yet  he  did  not 
feel  that  way.  He  did  not  feel  the  necessity  of 
acting  immediately,  and  he  put  it  off. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  153 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  when  things  come 
to  such  a  pass  between  a  Gentile  husband  and 
his  Jewish  wife,  the  results  are  bound  to  be 
strange,  unusual,  and  anything  but  agreeable. 
It  is  all  something  like — let  me  see — something 
like  what  is  written  in  the  Bible  about  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues,  when  one  could  not  under- 
stand the  speech  of  his  fellow.  Indeed,  had 
Peter  known  that  it  was  Anna  who  sent  me  to 
him,  he  would  have  resented  it  surely,  and 
would  have  thought  that  she  cared  more  for 
his  inheritance  than  she  cared  for  him. 

And  Peter  died,  after  a  long  illness. 

Then  Anna  had  to  go  through  an  ordeal  she 
had  not  yet  experienced  in  her  life  of  apos- 
tasy: she  had  to  go  through  the  ceremony  of 
mourning  according  to  the  prescribed  rules. 
And  her  fears  regarding  the  house  turned  out 
to  have  been  but  too  well  founded.  The  village 
elder,  in  the  name  of  the  rest  of  the  relatives, 


154  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

disputed  Peter's  title  to  the  property.  Anna 
was  given  a  small  sum  of  money,  and  the  whole 
piece  of  property  was  deeded  over  to  Serge 
Ivanovich.  As  to  Anna  and  Marusya,  they  had 
to  be  satisfied  with  the  little  money  they  re- 
ceived. 

In  the  end  it  turned  out  that  there  was  a 
deeper  purpose  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
affair.  That  scamp,  Serge  Ivanovich,  under- 
stood very  well  that  in  every  respect  Marusya 
was  above  the  rest  of  the  village  girls,  and  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  marry  her.  To  be  sure, 
he  hated  the  Jews:  they  always  managed  to 
intrude  where  they  were  least  wanted;  and  he 
never  missed  an  opportunity  of  insulting  Anna 
and  her  daughter.  But  that  is  just  the  way 
they  all  are :  they  will  spit  to-day,  to  lick  it  off 
to-morrow.  At  the  same  time  he  knew  well 
enough  that  Marusya  would  not  be  willing  to 
have  him.  Yet,  in  spite  of  it  all,  he  sent  some 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  155 

friends  with  the  formal  message  of  a  proposal. 
As  an  inducement  he  promised  to  deed  the 
whole  property  to  Anna  and  Marusya.  Anna 
seemed  willing  enough  to  accept  the  offer. 
Then  Marusya  turned  to  me.  I  began  to  side 
with  Anna. 

"  You  are  a  liar !  "  shouted  Marusya,  turn- 
ing to  me.  And  she  was  right.  Indeed,  I  did 
not  wish  at  all  to  see  Marusya  marry  Serge. 
But  I  cannot  tell  why  I  had  said  the  opposite. 
Then  Marusya  curtly  dismissed  the  representa- 
tives of  the  suitor. 

I  decided  not  to  part  from  the  two  un- 
happy women  just  then  and  leave  them  alone 
in  their  misfortune.  But  Heaven  willed  other- 
wise. The  Crimean  War  had  been  decided 
upon,  and  our  regiment  was  the  first  to  be  sent 
to  the  front.  So  I  was  taken  from  my  dear 
friends  just  when  they  needed  me  most. — 


156  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

XI 

A  mixture  of  light  and  darkness  appeared 
in  a  corner  of  the  eastern  sky,  something  like 
the  reflection  of  a  distant  conflagration.  The 
light  spread  farther  and  farther,  and  swal- 
lowed many  a  star.  It  looked  as  if  some  half- 
extinguished  firebrand  of  a  world  had  blazed 
up  again,  and  was  burning  brightly  once  more. 
But  no!  that  was  neither  a  world-catastrophe 
nor  a  conflagration:  some  mysterious  new 
creation  was  struggling  into  existence.  And 
after  the  noiseless  storm  and  battle  of  lights, 
the  moon  appeared,  angry-looking  and  ragged- 
edged.  In  the  light  of  the  moon  the  speaker 
too  looked  strange  and  fantastic,  like  a  relic 
of  a  world  that  is  no  more. 

The  old  man  continued: — 

Well,  on  that  day  we  turned  a  new  leaf  in 
our  lives.  Till  then  we  had  been  like  people 
who  live  against  their  own  will,  without  aim 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  157 

or  object.  We  had  to  get  up  in  the  morning, 
because  we  had  gone  to  bed  the  night  before. 
We  ate,  because  we  were  hungry.  We  went 
to  our  drills,  because  we  were  ordered  to 
go.  And  we  went  to  sleep  at  night,  because 
we  felt  tired.  All  our  existence  seemed  to  be 
only  for  the  sake  of  discipline;  and  that  disci- 
pline, again,  seemed  a  thing  in  itself.  But  the 
moment  they  told  us  of  mobilization  and  war, 
our  riddle  was  solved.  It  suddenly  became 
clear  to  us  why  we  had  been  caught  and  brought 
to  where  we  were,  and  why  we  had  been  suf- 
fering all  the  time.  It  looked  as  if  year  in, 
year  out,  we  had  been  walking  in  the  darkness 
of  some  cave,  and  all  of  a  sudden  our  path  be- 
came light.  And  we  were  happy. 

I  saw  Jacob:  he,  too,  looked  happy,  which 
had  not  been  his  way  for  the  last  few  years. 
From  the  moment  he  had  received  permission 
to  pray  in  Hebrew  and  observe  the  Sabbath, 


158  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

his  mood  changed  for  the  worse :  he  looked  as 
if  he  were  "  possessed."  He  complained  that 
his  prayers  were  not  so  sweet  to  him  any  more 
as  they  had  been  before;  and  the  Sabbath  rest 
was  a  real  burden  upon  him.  Then,  his  father 
did  not  appear  in  his  dreams  any  more.  Be- 
sides, he  confessed  that  he  forgot  his  prayers 
many  a  time,  and  was  not  very  strict  as  to  the 
Sabbath.  He  feared  his  prayers  were  no  longer 
acceptable  in  Heaven.  No,  said  he,  that  was 
not  his  destiny:  the  Jewishness  of  a  Cantonist 
lay  only  in  suffering  martyrdom.  But  with 
the  news  of  the  coming  war,  a  change  came 
over  him.  He  became  gay  as  a  child. 

One  morning,  when  we  were  assembled  on 
the  drill  grounds  before  the  house  of  the 
sergeant,  I  was  called  into  the  house.  "  Hour- 
vitz,"  said  my  good  sergeant,  turning  to  me, 
"  three  beautiful  creatures  ask  me  not  to  send 
you  to  the  fighting  line  but  to  appoint  you  to 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  159 

some  auxiliary  company.  Ask,  and  I  shall  do 
so." 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  if  this  be  your  order,  I  have 
but  to  obey;  but  if  my  wish  counts  for  anything, 
I  should  prefer  to  stay  with  the  colors  and  go 
to  the  fighting  line.  Otherwise  what  was  our 
preparation  for  and  our  training  of  many 
years?  " 

A  smile  of  satisfaction  appeared  on  the  face 
of  the  sergeant. 

"And  if  you  fall  in  battle?" 

"  I  shall  not  fall,  sir,  before  I  make  others 
fall." 

"  What  makes  you  feel  so  sure  of  it?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell,  sir;  but  it  is  enough  if  I  am 
sure  of  it." 

"  Well,  I  agree  with  you.  Now  let  us  hear 
what  your  fair  advocates  have  to  say." 

He  opened  the  door  of  an  adjoining  room, 
and  Anna,  Marusya,  and  the  sergeant's  wife 


160  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

appeared.  Then  a  dispute  began.  They  in- 
sisted on  their  opinion,  and  I  on  mine. 

"  Let  us  count  votes,"  said  the  sergeant. 
"  I  grant  you  two  votes;  together  with  my  own 
vote  it  makes  three  against  three." 

Then  I  looked  at  Marusya.  She  thought  a 
little,  and  added  her  vote  to  mine.  So  the 
majority  prevailed.  When  I  went  outside, 
Marusya  followed  me,  and  handed  me  a  small 
parcel.  What  I  found  there,  among  other 
things,  was  a  small  Hebrew  prayer  book,  which 
Marusya  must  have  gotten  at  Moshko's,  and 
a  small  silver  cross  which  she  had  always  worn 
around  her  neck.  We  looked  at  each  other  and 
kept  silent:  was  there  anything  to  be  said? 

After  she  had  walked  away  a  few  steps,  she 
turned  around,  as  if  she  had  forgotten  some- 
thing. 

"  And  if  you  return  ...   ?  " 

"  Then  to  you  I  return,"  was  my  answer. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  161 

She  went  on,  and  I  turned  to  look  back  in  her 
direction:  she  also  looked  back  at  me.  Later 
I  turned  again  to  look  at  her,  and  she,  too,  kept 
looking  back,  until  we  lost  sight  of  each  other. 
Before  Anna  could  be  dispossessed,  Heaven 
wrought  a  miracle :  Serge  Ivanovich  was 
drafted  into  the  army.  He  was  attached  to 
our  regiment,  and  we  served  in  the  same  com- 
pany. In  the  meantime  Anna  remained  in 
possession  of  the  house. 

XII 

So,  after  all,  they  had  not  been  mere  sport, 
those  years  of  drilling,  of  exercising,  of  train- 
ing to  "  stand  up,"  to  "  lie  down,"  to  "  run," 
etc.,  etc.  .  .  . 

It  had  been  all  for  the  sake  of  war,  and  it 
was  to  war  that  we  were  going.  My  companion 
in  exile,  I  mean  my  Barker,  did  not  wish  to 
part  from  me.  Ashamed  though  I  am,  I  must 


1 62  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

yet  call  him  "  my  true  friend."  Human  beings 
as  a  rule  forget  favors  rendered.  This  is  the 
way  God  has  made  them.  In  very  truth,  it 
is  only  your  soldier,  your  fellow  in  exile,  and 
your  dog  that  are  able  to  serve  you  and  love 
you  at  the  risk  of  their  own  lives.  I  chased 
Barker  away,  but  he  kept  on  following  me.  I 
struck  him :  he  took  the  blows,  and  licked  my 
hands.  I  struck  him  over  the  legs  with  the 
stock  of  my  gun.  He  broke  out  in  a  whine, 
and  ran  after  me,  limping.  Marusya  caught 
him  and  locked  him  up  in  the  stable.  I  thought 
I  had  gotten  rid  of  him.  But  some  hours  later 
I  saw  him  limping  after  me.  Then  I  realized 
that  the  dog  was  fated  to  share  all  the  troubles 
of  campaign  life  with  me.  And  my  Barker 
became  a  highly  respectable  dog.  The  first 
day  he  eyed  everybody  with  a  look  of  suspicion. 
The  bright  buttons  and  the  blue  uniforms 
scared  him;  possibly  because  buttons  and  uni- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  163 

forms  went  with  stocks  of  guns  like  the  one 
that  had  given  him  the  lame  leg.  By  and  by 
Barker  picked  me  and  Jacob  out  from  among 
the  soldiers,  and  kept  near  us.  They  used  to 
say  in  our  company  that  Barker  was  a  particu- 
lar friend  of  Jews,  and  he  knew  a  Jew  when 
he  saw  one.  Very  likely  that  was  so.  But 
then  they  never  knew  how  many  slices  of  bread 
and  meat  Barker  had  gotten  from  Jewish 
hands  before  he  knew  the  difference. 

Just  about  that  time  we  got  other  new  com- 
panions. One  of  them  was  a  certain  Pole, 
Vassil  Stefanovich  Zagrubsky,  blessed  be  his 
memory,  Jew-hater  though  he  was. 

The  beginning  of  our  acquaintance  promised 
no  good.  That  particular  Pole  was  poor  but 
proud — a  poor  fellow  with  many  wants.  Then 
he  was  a  smoker,  too.  I  also  enjoyed  a  smoke 
when  I  had  an  extra  copper  in  my  pocket.  But 
Zagrubsky  had  a  passion  for  smoking,  and 


1 64  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

when  he  had  no  tobacco  of  his  own,  he  de- 
manded it  of  others.  That  was  his  way:  he 
could  not  beg;  he  could  only  demand.  Three 
of  us  shared  one  tent:  Zagrubsky,  Serge,  and 
myself.  Serge  was  a  soldier  in  comfortable  cir- 
cumstances. He  had  taken  some  money  with 
him  from  home,  and  received  a  monthly  allow- 
ance from  his  parents.  He  always  had  excel- 
lent tobacco.  Once,  when  he  happened  to  open 
his  tobacco  pouch  to  roll  a  cigarette,  Zagrubsky 
took  notice  of  it,  and  put  forth  his  hand  to 
take  some  tobacco.  That  was  his  way:  when- 
ever he  saw  a  tobacco  pouch  open,  he  would 
try  to  help  himself  to  some  of  its  contents.  But 
Serge  was  one  of  those  peasants  whose  ambition 
extends  beyond  their  class.  He  was  painfully 
proud,  prouder  than  any  of  the  nobles.  Be- 
fore entering  the  service  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  "  rise."  He  wanted  to  become  an 
officer,  so  that  the  villagers  would  have  to 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  165 

stand  at  attention  before  him  when  he  returned 
home.  Therefore  he  gave  Zagrubsky  a  super- 
cilious look  of  contempt,  and  unceremoniously 
closed  the  pouch  when  the  Pole  wanted  to  take 
some  tobacco.  I  was  sorry  for  the  Pole,  and 
offered  him  some  of  my  own  tobacco.  He  did 
not  fail  to  take  it,  but  at  the  same  time  I  heard 
him  sizzle  out  "  Zhid "  from  between  his 
tightly  closed  lips.  I  looked  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment: how  on  earth  could  he  guess  I  was  a 
Jew,  when  I  spoke  my  Russian  with  the  right 
accent  and  inflection,  while  his  was  lame, 
broken,  and  half  mixed  with  Polish?  That 
was  a  riddle  to  me.  But  I  had  no  time  to 
puzzle  it  out,  and  I  forgot  it  on  the  spot. 

We  had  long  been  occupying  the  same  posi- 
tion, waiting  for  a  merry  beginning.  All  that 
time  seemed  to  us  something  like  a  preparation 
for  a  holiday;  but  the  long  tiresome  wait 
was  disgusting.  In  the  meantime  something 


1 66  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

extraordinary  happened  in  our  camp.  Our 
camp  was  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  sentries. 
At  some  distance  from  the  cordon  was  the 
camp  of  the  purveyors,  the  merchants  who 
supplied  the  soldiers  with  all  kinds  of  neces- 
saries. Without  a  special  permit  no  purveyor 
could  pass  the  line  of  sentries  and  enter  the 
camp. 

It  happened  that  one  of  those  purveyors  ex- 
cited the  suspicion  of  Jacob.  Without  really 
knowing  why,  Jacob  came  to  consider  him  a 
suspicious  character.  Even  Barker,  timid  dog 
that  he  was,  once  viciously  attacked  that  par- 
ticular man,  as  if  to  tear  him  to  pieces.  And 
it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  Jacob  saved 
him  from  Barker's  teeth.  But  from  that  time 
on  Jacob  began  to  watch  the  man  closely.  That 
very  day  we  were  told  that  General  Luders  was 
going  to  visit  our  camp.  Jacob  was  doing 
sentry  duty.  Just  then  the  suspicious  purveyor 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  167 

appeared  suddenly,  as  if  he  had  sprung  out  of 
the  ground.  Jacob  had  his  eye  on  him.  Pres- 
ently Jacob  noticed  that  the  fellow  was  hiding 
behind  a  bank  of  earth;  he  saw  him  take  out  a 
pistol  from  his  pocket  and  aim  it  somewhere 
into  space.  That  very  moment  General  Luders 
appeared  on  the  grounds.  Without  thinking 
much,  Jacob  aimed  his  gun  at  the  purveyor  and 
shot  him  dead.  On  investigation  it  turned  out 
that  the  purveyor  was  a  Pole,  who  had  smug- 
gled himself  into  the  camp  in  order  to  assassin- 
ate the  General. 

Then  they  began  to  gossip  in  the  regiment 
about  Jacob's  "  rising."  General  Luders  pat- 
ted him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said,  "  Bravo, 
officer!" 

A  few  days  later  I  met  Jacob :  he  looked  pale 
and  worn  out.  His  smile  was  more  like  the 
frozen  smile  of  the  agony  of  death.  I  told 
him  I  had  dreamt  he  was  drowning  in  a  river 


1 68  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

of  oil.  Then  he  told  me  confidentially  that  he 
had  promised  his  superiors  to  renounce  his 
faith. 

Well,  in  the  long  run,  it  appeared  that  there 
was  much  truth  in  Jacob's  idea,  that  a  Jew  in 
exile  must  not  accept  favors  from  Gentiles. 
And  the  temptation  to  which  Jacob  had  been 
exposed  was  certainly  much  harder  to  stand 
than  a  thousand  lashes,  or  even,  for  that  mat- 
ter, the  whole  bitter  life  of  a  Cantonist.  The 
pity  of  it  I 

A  few  days  later  Zagrubsky  was  appointed 
to  serve  Jacob.  But  when  Zagrubsky  reported 
for  duty,  Jacob  dismissed  him.  It  was  against 
Jacob's  nature  to  have  others  do  for  him  what 
he  could  do  himself. 

Zagrubsky  departed,  hissing  "  Zhid  "  under 
his  breath.  It  was  the  way  he  had  treated  me. 
My  patience  was  gone.  I  put  myself  in  his 
way,  stopped  him,  and  asked  him :  "  Now 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  169 

listen,  you  Pollack,  how  do  you  come  to  find 
out  so  quickly  who  is  a  Jew,  and  who  is  not? 
As  far  as  I  can  see,  you  cannot  speak  Russian 
correctly  yourself:  why,  then,  do  you  spy  on 
others?  I  have  not  yet  forgotten  that  it  was 
on  account  of  my  tobacco  that  you  recognized 
I  was  a  Zhid,  too." 

"  O,  that  is  all  very  simple,"  said  he.  "  I 
never  saw  such  lickspittles  as  the  Jews  are. 
They  are  always  ready  to  oblige  others  with 
their  favors  and  refuse  honors  due  to  them- 
selves. That  is  why  the  authorities  favor  them 
so  much.  Do  you  wish  to  know  what  a  Jew  is  ? 
A  Jew  is  a  spendthrift,  a  liar,  a  whip-kisser,  a 
sneak.  He  likes  to  be  trampled  on  much  more 
than  others  like  to  trample  on  him.  He  makes 
a  slave  of  himself  in  order  to  be  able  to  enslave 
everybody  else.  I  hate  the  Jews,  especially 
those  from  whom  I  ever  get  any  favors." 

Well,  by  this  time  I  am  ready  myself  to  agree 


1 70  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

with  many  of  the  Pole's  assertions.  The  Jew 
is  very  lavish  in  his  dealings  with  Gentiles.  He 
is  subservient,  and  always  ready  to  give  up 
what  is  his  due.  All  that  is  a  puzzle  to  the 
Gentiles,  and  every  Jew  who  has  been  brought 
up  and  educated  among  them  knows  that  as 
well  as  I  do.  Sometimes  they  have  a  queer 
explanation  for  it.  A  Gentile  who  has  ever 
tasted  of  Jewish  kindness  and  unselfishness  will 
say  to  himself,  "  Very  likely  the  Jew  feels  that 
he  owes  me  much  more." 

To  be  brief:  Zagrubsky  and  I  became  very 
much  attached  to  each  other.  But  we  never 
tried  to  disguise  our  feelings.  I  knew  he  was 
my  enemy,  and  he  knew  that  I  was  repaying 
him  in  kind,  with  open  enmity.  That  was  just 
what  Zagrubsky  liked.  We  loved  our  mutual 
cordial  hatred.  When  one  feels  like  giving 
vent  to  his  feelings,  like  hating,  cursing,  or 
detesting  somebody  or  something,  one's  enemy 
becomes  dearer  than  a  hundred  friends. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  171 

Then  there  came  a  certain  day,  and  that 
day  brought  us  close  together  for  a  moment, 
closer  than  we  should  ever  be  again.  It 
happened  at  night  ....  cursed  be  that 
night!  swallowed  up  the  following  day!  .  .  .  . 

We  soldiers  had  long  become  tired  of  our 
drill  and  our  manoeuvres;  we  got  tired  of 
"  attacking  "  under  the  feint  of  a  "  retreat," 
and  of  "  retreating  "  under  the  feint  of  an  "  at- 
tack." We  were  disgusted  with  standing  in 
line  and  discharging  our  guns  into  the  air,  with- 
out ever  seeing  the  enemy.  In  our  days  a 
soldier  hated  feints  and  make-believes.  "  Get 
at  your  enemy  and  crush  his  head,  or  lie  down 
yourself  a  crushed  '  cadaver  '  " — that  was  our 
way  of  fighting,  and  that  was  the  way  we  won 
victories.  As  our  general  used  to  say:  "  The 
bullet  is  a  blind  fool,  but  the  bayonet  is  the 
real  thing." 

At  last,  at  last,  we  heard  the  quick,  nervous 
notes  of  the  bugle,  and  the  hurried  beats  of  the 


172  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

drum,  the  same  we  used  to  hear  year  in,  year 
out.  But  till  that  moment  it  was  all  "  make- 
believe  "  drill.  It  was  like  what  we  mean  by 
the  passage  in  the  Passover  Haggodah:  "  Any 
one  who  is  in  need  may  come,  and  partake  of 
the  Passah-lamb.  ..."  Till  that  moment 
we  used  to  attack  the  air  with  our  bayonets  and 
pierce  space  right  and  left,  "  as  if  "  the  enemy 
had  been  before  us,  ready  for  our  steel.  We 
were  accustomed  to  pierce  and  to  vanquish  the 
air  and  spirits,  and  that  is  all.  At  the  same 
time  there  was  something  wonderful,  sweet, 
and  terrible  in  those  blasts  of  the  bugle,  some- 
thing that  was  the  very  secret  of  soldiery,  some- 
thing that  went  right  into  our  souls  when  we 
returned  home  from  our  drill.  .  .  . 

But  on  that  day  it  was  not  drill  any  more, 
and  not  make-believe  any  more,  no !  Before  us 
was  the  real  enemy,  looking  into  our  very  eyes 
and  thirsting  for  our  blood. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  173 

Then,  just  for  a  moment,  I  thought  of  my- 
self, of  my  own  flesh,  which  was  not  made 
proof  against  the  sharp  steel.  I  remembered 
that  I  had  many  an  account  to  settle  in  this 
world;  that  I  had  started  many  a  thing  and 
had  not  finished  it;  and  that  there  was  much 
more  to  start.  I  thought  of  my  own  enemies, 
whom  I  had  not  harmed  as  yet.  I  thought  of 
my  friends,  to  whom  I  had  so  far  done  no  good. 
In  short,  I  thought  I  was  just  in  the  middle  of 
my  lifework,  and  that  the  proper  moment  to 
die  had  not  yet  come.  But  all  that  came  as  a 
mere  flash.  For  in  the  line  of  battle  my  own 
self  was  dissolved,  as  it  were,  and  was  lost, 
just  like  the  selves  of  all  who  were  there.  I 
became  a  new  creature  with  new  feelings  and  a 
new  consciousness.  But  the  thing  cannot  be 
described :  one  has  to  be  a  soldier  and  stand  in 
the  line  of  battle  to  feel  it.  You  may  say,  if 
you  like,  that  I  believe  that  the  angel-pro- 

12 


i74  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

tectors  of  warring  nations  descend  from  on 
high,  and  in  the  hour  of  battle  enter  as  new 
souls  into  the  soldiers  of  the  line. 

Then  and  there  an  end  came  also  to  the 
vicissitudes  of  my  Barker.  I  found  him  dead, 
stretched  out  at  full  length  on  a  bank  of  earth, 
which  was  the  monument  over  the  grave  of  the 
heroes  of  the  first  day's  fighting.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  all  went  to  battle  in  the  full  flowering 
of  strength  and  thirsty  for  victory,  only  to  be 
dragged  down  at  night  into  that  hole,  to  be 
buried  there.  Well,  the  earth  knows  no  dis- 
tinction between  one  race  and  another;  its 
worms  feed  alike  on  Jew  and  Gentile.  But 
there,  in  Heaven,  they  surely  know  the  differ- 
ence between  one  soul  and  another,  and  each 
one  is  sent  to  its  appointed  place. 

I  was  told  that  Jacob  was  among  those 
buried  in  the  common  grave.  Quite  likely.  I 
whispered  a  Kaddish  over  the  grave,  giving 
it  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  175 

Of  course,  I  was  not  foolish  enough  to  cry 
over  the  cadaver  of  a  dog;  and  yet  it  was  a 
pity.  After  all,  it  was  a  living  creature,  too; 
it  had  shared  all  kinds  of  things  with  me :  exile, 
hunger,  rations,  blows.  And  it  had  loved  me, 
too.  .  .  . 

The  next  morning  we  were  out  again.  In 
a  moment  line  faced  line,  man  faced  man, 
enemy  faced  enemy.  It  was  a  mutual  mur- 
derous attraction,  a  bloodthirsty  love,  a  desire 
to  embrace  and  to  kill. 

It  was  very  much  like  the  pull  I  felt  towards 
Marusya. 

....  Lightning.  .  .  .  shots.  .  .  .  thunder.  .  .  . 
The  talk  of  the  angel-protectors  it  is.  ... 
....  Snakes  of  fire  flying  upward,  spread- 
ing out  ....  shrapnel  ....  bombs  a-burst- 
ing  ....  soldiers  standing  ....  reeling  .... 
falling  ....  crushed,  or  lapping  their  own 


i76  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

blood.  .  .  .  Thinning  lines  ....  breast  to 
breast.  .  .  .  Hellish  howls  over  the  field.  .  .  . 

Crashing  comes  the  Russian  music,  drown- 
ing all  that  hellish  chorus,  pouring  vigor, 
might,  and  hope  into  the  hearts  of  men.  .  .  . 

Alas,  the  music  breaks  off.  .  .  .  Where  is 
the  bugle?  ....  The  trumpet  is  silenced. 
.  .  .  The  trombone  breaks  off  in  the  middle 
of  a  note.  .  .  .  Only  one  horn  is  left.  .  .  . 
Higher  and  higher  rise  its  ringing  blasts,  chant- 
ing, as  it  were,  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear 
no  evil ;  for  Thou  art  with  me !  " 

In  mighty  embrace  men  clasp  one  another. 
.  .  .  Stabbing,  being  stabbed  ....  killing, 
being  killed.  .  .  . 

I  work  away  right  and  left,  I  expect  my 
death-blow  every  moment,  but  I  seem  to  be 
charmed:  swords  and  bayonets  surround  me, 
but  never  touch  me. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  177 

Yes,  it  was  a  critical  moment;  it  could  not 
last  much  longer;  one  side  had  to  give  way. 

But  the  Russians  could  not  retreat,  because 
in  their  very  midst  the  priest  was  standing,  the 
ikon  of  the  Virgin  in  one  hand  and  the  crucifix 
in  the  other. 

The  soldiers  looked  at  the  images,  got  up 
new  courage,  and  did  wonders. 

Do  you  remember  the  Biblical  story  of  the 
brazen  serpent?  That  was  just  like  it. 

Well,  a  bullet  came  flying,  whistling, 
through  the  air,  and  the  priest  fell.  Then  the 
ikon  and  the  crucifix  began  to  wobble  this  way 
and  that  way,  and  fell  down,  too.  The  soldiers 
saw  it,  lost  heart,  and  wanted  to  run. 

At  that  moment  I  felt  as  if  I  were  made  of 
three  different  men. 

Just  imagine :  Samuel  the  individual,  Samuel 
the  soldier,  and  Samuel  the  Jew. 

Says  Samuel  the   individual:    "You   have 


178  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

done  well  enough,  and  it  is  all  over  now.  Run 
for  dear  life." 

Says  Samuel  the  soldier:  "  Shame  on  you, 
where  is  your  bravery?  The  regimental  images 
are  falling.  Try,  perhaps  they  may  be  saved 
yet." 

Says  Samuel  the  Jew:  "Of  course,  save; 
for  a  Jew  must  ever  do  more  than  is  expected 
of  him." 

But  Samuel  the  individual  replies:  "  Do  you 
remember  how  many  lashes  you  have  suffered 
on  account  of  these  very  images?  " 

Says  Samuel  the  Jew  again :  "  Do  you  know 
what  these  images  are,  and  to  what  race  they 
belong?  " 

Many  such  thoughts  flashed  through  my 
brain;  but  it  was  all  in  a  moment.  And  in  a 
moment  I  was  at  the  side  of  the  priest.  He  was 
alive;  he  was  wounded  only  in  his  hand.  I 
raised  him  to  his  feet,  put  the  images  into  his 
hands,  lifted  them  up,  and  supported  -them. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  179 

"  This  way,  Russians!  " 

I  do  not  know  who  shouted  these  words. 
Perhaps  I  did ;  perhaps  some  one  else ;  perhaps 
it  was  from  Heaven. 

However,  the  victory  was  ours. 

But  I  did  not  remain  on  my  feet  a  long  time ; 
a  bullet  struck  me,  and  I  fell 

What  happened  then,  I  cannot  tell.  All  I 
know  is  that  I  dreamt  something  very  agree- 
able: I  was  a  little  boy  again,  hanging  on  to 
my  father's  coat-tails,  and  standing  beside  him 
in  the  Klaus  on  a  Yom-Kippur  eve,  during  the 
most  tearful  prayers,  and  a  mischievous  little 
boy  began  to  play  with  me,  pricking  my  leg 
with  a  needle  every  now  and  then.  .  .  . 

When  I  came  to  my  senses,  I  found  myself 
in  a  sea  of  howls,  groans,  and  cries,  which 
seemed  to  be  issuing  from  the  very  depths  of 
the  earth.  For  a  moment  I  thought  I  was  in 
purgatory,  among  the  sinners  who  undergo 


180  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

punishment.  But  pretty  soon  I  recognized 
everything.  I  turned  my  head,  and  saw 
Zagrubsky  lying  near  me,  wounded  and  groan- 
ing. He  looked  at  me,  and  there  was  love  and 
hatred  mixed  in  that  look.  "  Zhid,"  said  he, 
with  his  last  breath,  and  gave  up  the  ghost. 

Rest  in  peace,  thou  beloved  enemy  of  mine ! 

From  behind  I  heard  someone  groaning  and 
moaning;  but  the  voice  sounded  full  and  strong. 
I  turned  my  head  in  the  direction  of  the  voice, 
and  I  saw  that  Serge  Ivanovich  was  lying  on 
his  side  and  moaning.  He  looked  around, 
stood  up  for  a  while,  and  lay  down  again.  This 
manoeuvre  he  repeated  several  times  in  suc- 
cession. You  see,  the  rascal  was  scheming  to 
his  own  advantage.  He  knew  very  well  that 
in  the  end  he  would  have  to  fall  down  and 
groan  for  good.  So  he  thought  it  was  much 
cheaper  and  wiser  to  do  it  of  his  own  free  will, 
than  to  wait  for  something  to  throw  him  down. 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  181 

The  scamp  had  seen  what  I  had  done  before 
I  fell.  A  thought  came  to  him.  He  helped  me 
to  my  feet,  bandaged  my  wound,  and  said : 

"Now  listen,  Samuel:  you  have  certainly 
done  a  very  great  thing;  but  it  is  worth  nothing 
to  you  personally.  Nay,  worse :  they  might 
again  try  to  make  you  renounce  your  faith.  So 
it  is  really  a  danger  to  you.  But,  if  you  wish, 
just  say  that  I  have  done  it,  and  I  shall  repay 
you  handsomely  for  it.  The  priest  will  not 
know  the  difference." 

Well,  it  is  this  way:  I  always  hated  get- 
rich-quick  schemes.  I  never  cared  a  rap  for  a 
penny  I  had  not  expected  and  was  not  ready 
to  earn.  Take,  for  instance,  what  I  did  with 
the  priest:  Did  I  ever  expect  any  honors  or 
profits  out  of  it?  Such  possible  honors  and 
profits  I  certainly  did  not  like,  and  did  not  look 
for.  Besides,  who  could  assure  me  that  they 
would  not  try  again  to  coax  me  into  renouncing 


1 82  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

my  faith?  Why,  then,  should  I  put  myself  into 
such  trouble  ?  And  I  said  to  Serge : 

"  You  want  it  badly,  Serge,  do  you?  You'd 
like  to  see  yourself  promoted,  to  be  an  officer  ? 
Is  that  so?  Very  well,  then.  Make  out  a 
paper  assigning  the  house  to  Marusya." 

"  I  promise  faithfully." 

"  I  believe  no  promises." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"  You  have  paper  and  pencil  in  your 
pocket?  " 

"Certainly!" 

I  turned  around,  supported  myself  on  both 
my  arms  and  one  knee,  and  made  a  sort  of  a 
rickety  table  of  myself.  And  on  my  back  Serge 
wrote  out  his  paper,  and  signed  it.  But  all 
that  was  really  unnecessary.  He  would  have 
kept  his  word  anyway.  For  he  was  always 
afraid  I  might  blurt  out  the  whole  story.  Not 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  183 

I,  though.  May  I  never  have  anything  in  com- 
mon with  those  who  profit  by  falsehoods! 

As  to  what  happened  later,  I  cannot  tell  you 
exactly.  For  I  was  taken  away,  first  to  a 
temporary  hospital,  and  then  to  a  permanent 
one.  I  fell  into  a  fever,  and  lost  consciousness. 
I  do  not  know  how  many  days  or  weeks  passed 
by:  I  was  in  a  different  world  all  that  time. 
How  can  I  describe  it  to  you  ?  Well,  it  was  a 
world  of  chaos.  It  was  all  jumbled  together: 
father,  mother,  military  service,  ikons,  lashes, 
lambs  slaughtered,  Peter,  bullets,  etc.,  etc. 

It  was  all  in  a  jumble,  all  topsyturvy.  And 
in  the  midst  of  that  chaos  I  felt  as  if  I  were  a 
thing  apart  from  myself.  My  head  ached, 
and  yet  it  felt  as  if  it  did  not  belong  to  me.  .  .  . 
Finally  I  thought  I  felt  mother  bathing  me ;  a 
delicious  feeling  of  moisture  spread  over  my 
flesh,  and  my  headache  disappeared.  Then  I 


1 84  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

felt  a  warm,  soft  hand  pass  over  my  forehead, 
cheeks,  and  neck.  .  .  . 

I  opened  my  eyes,  the  first  time  since  I  lost 
consciousness,  and  I  exclaimed: 

"Marusya!?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  she,  with  a  smile,  while  her 
eyes  brimmed  with  tears,  "  it  is  I."  And  be- 
hind her  was  another  face: 

"Anna?!" 

"  Rest,  rest,"  said  they,  warningly. 
"  Thanks  to  God,  the  crisis  is  over." 

I  doubted,  I  thought  it  was  all  a  dream.  But 
it  was  no  dream.  It  was  all  very  simple :  Anna 
and  Marusya  had  enlisted  and  were  serving  as 
volunteer  nurses  at  the  military  hospital,  and 
I  had  known  nothing  of  it. 

"  Marusya,"  said  I,  "  please  tell  me  how  do 
I  happen  to  be  here?  " 

Then  she  began  to  tell  me  how  they  brought 
me  there,  and  took  me  down  from  the  wagon 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  185 

as  insensible  as  a  log.  But  she  could  not  finish 
her  story;  she  began  to  choke  with  tears,  and 
Anna  finished  what  Marusya  wanted  to  tell  me. 

I  turned  to  Marusya : 

"  Where  are  my  clothes?  " 

;<  What  do  you  want  them  for?  " 

"  There  is  a  paper  there." 

I  insisted,  and  she  brought  the  paper. 

"  Read  the  paper,  Marusya,"  said  I.  She 
read  the  document  in  which  Serge  assigned  the 
house  to  Marusya.  The  two  women  looked  at 
me  with  glad  surprise. 

"   How  did  you  ever  get  it?  " 

But  I  had  decided  to  keep  the  thing  a  secret 
from  them,  and  I  did. 

When  I  was  discharged  from  the  hospital, 
the  war  was  long  over,  and  a  treaty  of  peace 
had  been  signed.  Had  they  asked  me,  I  should 
not  have  signed  it. — 


1 86  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

XIII 

Here  the  old  man  stopped  for  a  while. 
Apparently  he  skipped  many  an  incident,  and 
omitted  many  a  thing  that  he  did  not  care  to 
mention.  I  saw  he  was  touching  upon  them 
mentally.  He  resumed: — 

Just  so,  just  so.  ...  Many,  many  a  thing 
may  take  place  within  us,  without  our  ever 
knowing  it.  I  never  suspected  that  I  had  been 
longing  to  see  my  parents.  I  never  wrote  to 
them,  simply  because  I  had  never  learned  to 
write  my  Jewish  well  enough.  Of  course,  had 
my  brother  Solomon  been  taken,  he  would 
surely  have  written  regularly,  for  he  was  a  great 
penman,  may  he  rest  in  peace.  As  to  Russian, 
I  certainly  might  have  written  in  that  language ; 
but  then  it  would  have  been  very  much  like 
offering  salt  water  to  a  thirsty  person.  And 
that  is  why  I  did  not  write.  I  thought  I  had 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  187 

forgotten  my  parents.  But  no !  Even  that  was 
merely  a  matter  of  habit.  I  had  gotten  so  used 
to  my  feeling  of  longing  that  I  was  not  aware 
of  having  it.  That  is  the  way  I  explain  it  to 
myself.  By  and  by  there  opened  in  my  heart 
a  dark  little  corner  that  had  been  closed  for 
many  a  year.  That  was  the  longing  for  my 
parents,  for  my  home,  mixed  with  just  a  trace 
of  anger-and  resentment.  I  began  to  picture  to 
myself  how  my  folks  would  meet  me:  there 
would  be  kisses,  embraces,  tears,  neighbors. 
.  .  .  For,  like  a  silly  child,  I  imagined  they 
were  all  alive  and  well  yet,  and  that  the  Angel 
of  Death  would  wait  till  I  came  and  repaid 
them  for  all  the  worry  I  had  caused  them. 
.  .  .  And,  indeed,  would  they  not  have  been 
greatly  wronged,  had  they  been  allowed  to  die 
unconsoled,  after  they  had  rent  Heaven  with 
their  prayers  and  lamentations? 

But  the  nearer  I  came  to  my  native  town, 


1 88  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

the  less  grew  my  desire  to  see  it.  A  feeling  of 
estrangement  crept  over  me  at  the  sight  of  the 
neighborhood.  No,  it  was  not  exactly  a  feel- 
ing of  estrangement,  but  some  other  feeling, 
something  akin  to  what  we  feel  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  pain  caused  by  long-forgotten 
troubles.  I  can  hardly  make  it  clear  to  you; 
it  was  not  unlike  what  an  old  man  feels  after 
a  bad  dream  of  the  days  of  his  youth. 

It  was  about  this  time  of  the  year.  The 
roads  were  just  as  bad  as  now,  the  slush  just  as 
deep.  And  it  was  as  nauseating  to  sit  in  the 
coach  only  to  watch  the  glittering  mud  and 
count  the  slow  steps  of  the  horses.  In  a  season 
like  this  it  is  certainly  much  more  agreeable  to 
dismount  and  walk.  That  was  just  what  I  did. 
My  native  town  was  not  far  away:  only  once 
uphill,  once  downhill,  and  there  was  the  inevit- 
able cemetery,  which  must  be  passed  when  one 
enters  a  Jewish  village.  The  horses  could 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  189 

hardly  move,  and  I  overtook  them  very  soon, 
as  I  took  a  short  cut,  and  struck  into  a  path 
across  the  peasants'  fields.  I  allowed  myself  that 
privilege,  because  at  that  time  I  was  still  wear- 
ing my  uniform  with  the  brass  buttons  shining 
brightly.  When  I  descended  into  the  valley, 
I  decided  to  cross  the  cemetery,  and  so  shorten 
my  way.  The  coach  was  far  behind,  and  I  was 
walking  very  slowly,  that  it  might  reach  me 
at  the  other  side  of  the  cemetery.  My  path  lay 
among  the  gravestones,  some  of  them  gray 
with  age,  dilapidated,  bent  forward,  as  if  try- 
ing to  overhear  the  talk  of  the  nether  world: 
some  clean  and  upright,  as  if  gazing  proudly 
heavenwards.  It  was  a  world  of  silence  I  was 
in;  and  heavy  indeed  is  the  silence  of  the  grave- 
yard: it  is  really  a  speaking  silence.  I  think 
there  is  something  real  in  the  belief  that  the 
dead  talk  in  their  graves.  To  me  it  seemed  as  if 
the  gravestones  were  casting  evil  glances  at  me 
13 


1 90  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

for  my  having  disturbed  the  silent  place  with 
the  glitter  of  my  buttons.  And  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  I  could  decipher  the  inscriptions 
on  the  stones.  I  do  not  know  why  it  was  so: 
either  my  Hebrew  had  got  rusty,  or  else  grave- 
yard inscriptions  make  hard  reading  in  general. 

"  Here  lieth  ....  the  righteous  man  .... 
modest,  pious  ....  Rabbi  Simhah  .... 
Shohet.  ..." 

I  read  it  all,  and  shuddered:  why,  under 
that  very  stone  lay  the  remains  of  my  own 
brother  Simhah ! 

I  wanted  to  shed  tears,  but  my  tears  did 
not  obey  me.  I  read  it  again  and  again,  and 
when  I  came  to  the  words  "  modest,"  "  pious," 
I  mumbled  something  to  myself,  something 
angry  and  envious.  Then  I  thought  I  felt  the 
tombstone  move,  the  ground  shake  under  me, 
as  if  a  shiver  were  passing  through  the  air.  .  . 

"  Forgive  me,  forgive  me  I  " 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  191 

It  was  not  my  ears  that  caught  those  words ; 
it  was  my  heart.  I  understood  that  it  was  the 
soul  of  my  brother  apologizing  to  me  for  the 
action  of  my  parents.  Tears  began  to  flow 
from  my  eyes.  I  did  not  care  to  read  any 
further,  from  fear  of  finding  something  I  did 
not  wish  to  find.  I  was  thinking  of  my  parents. 

And  when  I  entered  the  house  of  my  parents, 
I  could  hardly  recognize  them.  Wrinkled, 
bent,  with  sunken  cheeks,  they  had  changed 
entirely  in  appearance. 

Father  looked  at  my  buttons,  removed  his 
cap,  and  stood  bent  before  me.  Mother  was 
busying  herself  at  the  oven,  and  began  to  speak 
to  father  in  a  mixture  of  Hebrew  and  Yiddish : 
"  Sure  enough,  some  sort  of  taxes  again.  .  .  . 
Much  do  we  need  it  now.  .  .  ."  Then,  in  a 
fit  of  spitefulness,  I  made  believe  I  was  a 
stranger. 

"  Old  people,"  said  I,  "  I  have  brought  you 


1 92  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

news  from  your  son  Samuel."  As  soon  as 
father  heard  me  speak  Yiddish,  he  rah  to  the 
window,  rubbed  his  hands  against  the  moist 
pane,  by  way  of  washing  them,  and  shook 
hands  with  me. 

"  Peace  be  with  you,  young  man,"  said  he. 
Mother  left  her  corner  and  stood  up  before 
me.  Father  began  fumbling  for  his  glasses, 
and  asked  me :  "  News  from  my  son,  you  say? 
Where  did  you  see  him  last?  " 

"And  when  did  you  see  him?"  asked 
mother,  shivering. 

I  mentioned  some  imaginary  place  and  date. 

"  How  does  he  feel?  Was  he  in  the  war? 
Is  he  well?  Does  he  expect  to  come  home?  " 

Many  such  questions  followed  one  another 
in  quick  succession.  Meanwhile  father  took 
me  aside,  and  whispered  into  my  ear:  "  How 
about  ....  how  about  religion?"  Out  of 
sheer  spitefulness  I  wanted  to  worry  the  poor 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  193 

old  folks  a  little ;  may  the  Lord  not  consider  it 
a  sin  on  my  part. 

I  said:  "Had  Rabbi  Simhah  the  Shohet 
been  in  his  place,  he  surely  would  have  with- 
stood all  temptations !".... 

"What,  converted?!" 

I  kept  silent,  and  the  old  people  took  it  as  a 
sign  of  affirmation. 

They  hung  their  heads  despondently,  and 
kept  silent,  too.  Then  father  asked  me  once 
more: 

"Married  a  Gentile?  Has  children?"  I 
still  kept  silent.  My  old  mother  wept  quietly. 
My  heart  melted  within  me,  but  I  braced  my- 
self up  and  kept  silent.  I  felt  as  if  a  lump  in 
my  throat  was  choking  me,  but  I  swallowed  it. 
I  heard  mother  talking  to  herself:  "  O  Master 
of  the  Universe,  Father  who  art  in  Heaven, 
Thou  Merciful  and  Righteous!"  ....  As 
she  said  it,  she  shook  her  head,  as  if  accepting 


i94  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

God's  verdict  and  complaining  at  the  same 
time. 

The  old  man  stood  up,  his  beard  a-quiver. 
His  hand  shook  nervously,  and  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  dry,  cold  despair: 

"  Ett.  .  .  .  Blessed  be  the  righteous 
Judge !  "  as  though  I  had  told  him  the  news  of 
his  son's  death.  With  that  he  took  out  a  pocket 
knife,  and  wanted  to  make  the  "  mourning 
cut."  At  that  moment  my  ear  caught  the 
sound  of  the  heartrending  singsong  of  the 
Psalms.  The  voice  was  old  and  tremulous.  It 
was  an  old  man,  evidently  a  lodger,  who  was 
reading  his  Psalter  in  an  adjoining  room: 

"  For  the  Lord  knoweth  the  path  of  the 
righteous.  ..." 

The  memories  of  the  long  past  overtook  me, 
and  I  told  my  parents  who  I  was.  .  .  .  . 

And  yet — continued  Samuel  after  some 
thought — and  yet  they  were  not  at  peace,  fear- 


IN  THOSE  DAYS  195 

ing  I  had  deceived  them.  And  they  never 
rested  till  they  got  me  married  to  my  Rebekah, 
"  according  to  the  law  of  Moses  and  Israel." 

Well,  two  years  passed  after  my  wedding, 
and  troubles  began;  I  got  a  toothache,  may 
you  be  spared  the  pain !  That  is  the  way  of  the 
Jew :  no  sooner  does  he  wed  a  woman  and  be- 
get children,  than  all  kinds  of  ills  come  upon 
him. 

Some  one  told  me,  there  was  a  nurse  at  the 
city  hospital  who  knew  how  to  treat  aching 
teeth  and  all  kinds  of  ills  better  than  a  full- 
fledged  doctor. 

I  went  to  the  hospital,  and  asked  for  the 
nurse. 

A  young  woman  came  out.  .  .  . 

"Marusya?!" 

"Samuel?!" 

We  were  both  taken  aback. 

"  And  where  is  your  husband,  Marusya  ?  " 
asked  I,  after  I  had. caught  my  breath. 


196  IN  THOSE  DAYS 

"  And  you,  Samuel,  are  you  married?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  I  am  single  yet." 

Yes,  yes,  she  was  a  good  soul !  She  died  long 
ago.  .  .  .  May  it  please  the  Lord  to  give  her 
a  goodly  portion  in  Paradise ! — 

Here  the  old  man  broke  off  his  story  with  a 
deep  sigh  escaping  from  his  breast. 

He  waved  his  hand  at  his  son,  who  was 
dozing  away  unconcerned,  lurching  from  side 
to  side.    The  old  man  looked  at  his  son,  shook' 
his  head,  and  said: 

"  Yes,  yes,  those  were  times,  those  were 
soldiers.  ...  It  is  all  different  now:  new 
times,  new  people,  new  soldiers.  .  .  . 

"  It  is  all  make-believe  nowadays !  .  .  .  .  " 


NOTES 


BY  THE  TRANSLATOR 
Av.  The  month  in  the  Jewish   BAR-MITZWAH.      L  ite  r  a  1 1  y, 


calendar  corresponding 
to  July-August.  On  the 
ninth  day  of  Av  the 
Temple  was  taken  and 
destroyed  by  Titus. 
ARBA-KANFOS.  Literally, 
"  four  corners."  A  rec- 
tangular piece  of  cloth 
about  one  foot  wide  and 
three  feet  long,  with  an 
aperture  in  the  middle 
large  enough  to  pass  it 
over  the  head.  The 
front  part  of  the  gar- 
ment falls  over  the  chest, 
the  other  part  covers  the 
shoulders.  To  its  four 
corners  "  Tzitzis,"  o  r 
fringes,  are  attached  in 
prescribed  manner. 
When  made  of  wool,  the 
Arba-Kanfos  is  usually 
called  TALLIS-KOTON 
(which  see). 


"  man  of  duty."  A  Jew- 
ish boy  who  has  passed 
his  thirteenth  birthday, 
and  has  thus  attained 
his  religious  majority. 
BEADLE.  The  functions  of 
this  officer  in  a  Jewish 
community  were  some- 
what similar  to  those  of 
the  constable  in  some 
American  villages. 

CANDLES.  The  Sabbath  is 
ushered  in  by  lighting 
the  Sabbath  candles,  ac- 
companied by  a  short 
prayer. 

CANTONISTS.  A  term  applied 
to  Jewish  boys  drafted 
into  military  service  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  Nicholas 
I  of  Russia  (1825-1855). 
Every  Jewish  community 
had  to  supply  its  quota; 


197 


198 


NOTES 


but  as  parents  did  not 
surrender  their  children 
willingly,  they  were  se- 
cured b  y  kidnappers 
specially  appointed  by 
the  Community  for  the 
purpose.  See  CATCHER. 
The  same  term  was  ap- 
plied to  the  children  of 
Russian  soldiers  who 
were  educated  for  the 
army  in  the  so-called 
District,  o  r  Canton, 
Schools.  Hence  the  name. 
CATCHER.  An  agent  of  the 
Jewish  Community  prior 
to  the  introduction,  in 
1874,  of  general  military 
duty  in  Russia. 

HAVDOLAH.  Ceremonial  with 
wine,  candle,  and  spices, 
accompanied  by  a  prayer, 
at  the  end  of  the  Sabbath. 

HAGGODAH.  The  ritual  used 
at  the  Passover  eve 
home  service. 

HALLAH.  In  commemoration 
of  the  priest's  tithe  at  the 
time  of  the  Temple.  The 
ceremonial  consists  of 
taking  a  piece  of  the 
bread  dough  before  it  is 


baked  and  throwing  it 
into  the  fire;  a  prayer  is 
recited  at  the  same  time. 
HEDER.  Literally,  "  a  room." 
Specifically,  a  school  in 
which  Bible  and  Talmud 
are  taught. 

KADDISH.  Literally,  "  sanc- 
tification."  A  prayer  re- 
cited in  commemoration 
of  the  dead. 

KARAITES.  Members  of  a 
Jewish  sect  that  does  not 
recognize  the  authority 
of  the  Talmud. 

KOSHER.  Literally,  "  right," 
"  fit"  Specifically  ap- 
plied to  food  prepared 
in  accordance  with  the 
Jewish  dietary  laws. 

KLAUS.  A  synagogue  to  which 
students  of  the  Talmud 
resort  for  study  and  dis- 
cussion. 

LAMDAN.  A  scholar  learned 
in  the  Torah. 

MEZUZAH.  Literally,  "  door- 
post." A  piece  of  parch- 
ment, inscribed  with  the 
SHEMA  (which  see),  to- 


NOTES 


199 


gether  with  Deut.  n  :  13- 
21,  rolled  up,  and  en- 
closed in  an  oblong  box, 
which  is  attached  in  a 
prescribed  way  to  the 
door-post  of  a  dwelling. 
MoDEH-Aui.  Literally,  "  I 
affirm."  The  opening 
words  of  a  brief  confes- 
sion of  faith. 

SHAATNEZ.  Cloth  or  a  gar- 
ment made  of  linen  and 
wool  woven  together;  or 
a  wool  garment  sewed 
with  linen  thread;  or  a 
linen  garment  sewed 
with  wool. 

SHEMA.  Literally,  "  listen." 
The  opening  words  of 
Deut.  6:4-9. 

SHEMAD.  Literally,  "  exter- 
mination." Applied  fig- 
uratively to  renunciation 
of  the  .Jewish  faith, 
whether  forced  or  vol- 
untary. 


SHOHET.  A  slaughterer  of 
cattle  licensed  by  a 
rabbi.  He  must  ex- 
amine the  viscera  of  cat- 
tle according  to  the  rules 
laid  down  in  the  Tal- 
mud. 

TALLIS-KOTON.  Literally, 
"the  little  Tallis,"  or 
prayer  shawl.  Worn  by 
some  Jews.  See  ARBA- 
KANFOS. 

TORAH.  Literally, "  doctrine." 
A  term  applied  to  the 
Pentateuch,  and  to  the 
Talmud  with  its  com- 
mentaries. 

TZITZIS.    See  ARBA-KANFOS. 

YoM-KippuR.  Day  of  Atone- 
ment 

ZHID  (fern.  Zhidovka:  zh 
sounded  like  z  in  azure). 
Literally,  "Judean." 
Russian  equivalent  of 
English  "  sheeny." 


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